The Old Fishery

Tomas stood up again. He’d been anxious to see what Madame Zellara’s reading would reveal, but now – well, daylight was wasting. He quickly began to organize the crew, doing a quick inventory of equipment, weapons, and abilities. In short order, he had them ready to set out for Gaedren Lamm’s hideout. “Are you coming with us?” he asked Zellara.

She shook her head. “I’d be worse than useless. But you are welcome to use my home if you need a place to rest. Whether I’m here or not.”

With heartfelt thanks for all she had done for them, the group set out. The address she’d given them was not far, in a neighborhood of rundown warehouses, shops, and taverns abutting the Jeggare River. The building itself was creaking and decrepit, but it looked like it would be a few years yet before the roof fell in. It was a single story in the front, but it was perched on a steep embankment, and most of the structure extending out over the Jeggare River on wooden pilings. The fishery’s external walls continued almost all the way down to the river, at least a dozen feet below, ending only a foot or two above its surface.

All the building’s windows were boarded shut, but even from a distance they could see cracks between the boards that would afford someone inside a clear view outside. There was a door in the front of the building; above it, a short post extended out like it had once sported a hanging sign, but all that remained was a single short piece of rusted chain.

Along the right side of the building, a narrow boardwalk traversed the length of the building, leading to a small dock at the back. Another door was about a third of the way down this walkway. Past the door, the boardwalk began to descend; the dock was at a lower level than the street. A rotting hulk of a small ship was moored to the dock, but it looked like the only thing keeping it from sinking to the river bottom might be its mooring ropes.

At the left side of the building was an open loading dock of sorts, surrounded by a low fence. A pair of barn-like doors were set into the building here, and were slightly ajar. At the back of the dock, a staircase led down to another door, just a few feet above river level.

The party took all this in as they passed the building, then looked for someplace they could observe from without being seen. Luckily, a building across the street was partially gutted by fire; its roof had caved in, but the walls were still standing, and afforded plenty of cover.

As they watched, they began to realize that they didn’t really have a plan. They didn’t know the layout of the building, or who was even inside. At this point, all they had was Zellara’s word that this was even Lamm’s hideout – what if she was wrong?

A few minutes later, they got some confirming evidence. A wagon rolled down the street, heaped with a stinking load of rotting, sun-tainted fish. It backed into the loading dock, and a swarm of children emerged from inside the fishery. Some clambered up onto the wagon and began shoveling fish carcasses into waiting wheelbarrows, which were wheeled inside by other children. Within minutes, the wagon was empty. Its driver went inside for a few minutes, then emerged and drove away.

While the party tried to puzzle out what this might mean, another man approached the dock. He was a grizzled local – possibly a fisherman or dockworker. He went inside, and emerged with a squat keg perched on his shoulder. The keg was daubed with a vaguely fish-shaped blotch of red paint. He trudged down the street, but before he could disappear into the crowds, Erin decided she was tired of sitting. “I’m going to follow him,” she announced, and set off before anyone could stop her.

She didn’t have to go far. A few blocks away he stopped at some kind of waterfront food stand. He lowered the keg to the ground and popped off the lid. A fat woman in a badly-stained dress dipped in a ladle and drew out a scoop of viscous, grayish-pink goo. She dropped it into a large bowl, added flour and some spices, then started dropping globs of the mixture into a vat of hot oil. Satisfied that this wasn’t some sort of shiver distribution scheme, Erin returned to the hiding spot, baffled by what was going on.

While she was gone, another visitor arrived, this one driving a donkey cart. When he pulled up, several kids ran out, put some planks up to the back of the cart, and then helped him roll a trio of large barrels out of the fishery and into his cart. He too set off down the street, and this time Nat decided to follow. He led Nat to a series of docks, where a fishing boat was beached on the bank of the river. He rolled one of the barrels off the cart and opened it. He then produced a large paintbrush, and began smearing the thick goo onto the side of his boat.

Nat’s curiosity got the better of him. “Whatcha got there?” he asked, giving the man a friendly wave.

“Why this stuff here’s just the best stuff ever!” the man replied merrily, waving the paintbrush around. Now that he was close, Nat couldn’t avoid the fishy stench coming from the barrel, and his eyes were beginning to burn so badly he had to blink frequently. “Normally, I’d have to scrape for a week to get the barnacles off my boat,” the fisherman continued, “but with the stuff I get from those fellers, I just slap it on, wait overnight, and then the next day those barnacles just slides right off!”

“Does it have any other side effects?” Nat asked, rubbing his watering eyes.

“Why this stuff here’s just the best stuff ever!” the fisherman repeated. “Normally, I’d have to scrape for a week to get the barnacles off my boat, but with the stuff I get from those fellers, I just slap it on, wait overnight, and then the next day those barnacles just slides right off!” Nat decided he had his answer, and hurried away before permanent brain damage could set in.

Back at their hideout, they compared notes. “Ewww! They were eating that stuff?” Nat asked, incredulous, as Erin described what she'd seen. Jax looked a little sick. “Those are dock dumplings they were cooking – kind of a fish fritter. I’ve had them a hundred times. Surely they’re not all made like that, right?”

“Hey guys,” Shadow said in a wary voice. “What do you make of that?” He pointed down the street. Since they’d arrived, it had seemed like a normal day on Korvosa’s waterfront, but now there was an unusual amount of activity on the streets. Knots of people stood at street corners or at the entrance to taverns and shops, talking in low tones. A distant screech drew their attention to the Great Tower, where they saw a squadron of hippogriff-mounted Sable Company Marines take off and fly north towards Old Korvosa. Minutes later, a second flight headed south, followed immediately by a third. This one flew directly over them, crossed the river, then circled back.

“I’ll be right back,” Shadow said over his shoulder, then headed for the nearest tavern. “What’s up?” he asked a man outside, sweeping his arm to indicate the gathering crowds.

The man nodded towards Castle Korvosa, looming over the city. “The rumors say the King’s on his deathbed,” he said in a low tone. “Can’t say I’ll miss the old skinflint much, but at least he was one of us. Now we’ll be left with that foreign wife of his.”

“Foreign?!?” a passerby interjected. “She’s not foreign – she’s Chelish! We could do with some purer blood on the throne, if you ask me!”

“Pure gold-digger is what you mean,” said a third, joining the argument. “She’s a pretty little thing, and she used her ‘assets’ to get a rich, horny old man to marry her. Happens all the time, except this time he was our king, and now, surprise surprise, he’s dying and she gets to be queen!”

The discussion began to grow more heated, and Shadow managed to slip away before any punches were thrown. Politics are all well and good, but there were more important things at hand. He reported what he’d heard. “What do you think they mean?” Wren asked, pointing up at the hippogriffs circling the city. She ducked under cover every time one passed overhead. “Don’t they usually only patrol off-shore?”

“Heightened military presence is my guess,” offered Jax. Tomas, watching the flying marines with obvious longing, nodded knowingly. “But whatever it is,” Jax continued, “it has nothing to do with us.”

They continued watching, and waiting, and as the shadows grew longer their courage waned. They’d been full of bravado back at Zellara’s, but now that they were here, they weren’t so sure they could really take on Lamm and his goons. “How many do we think there are, anyway?” asked Nat.

“Besides Lamm, there are three,” said Jax with certainty. “Yargin Balko is his right-hand man. He’s a nasty, cruel, ruthless bastard, but he’s a coward at heart. That doesn’t mean he’ll back down from a fight, though. Oh, and he likes to play with acid.” Wren shuddered as Jax spoke, and seemed to shrink inside herself even more.

“Then there’s Giggles,” Jax continued. “He’s the half-orc, and he’s the real deal. Don’t let his little-girl laugh fool you – he’s more dangerous than any of them, except maybe Lamm. Finally, there’s Hookshanks Gruller. He’s a gnome, and he’s smaller than even some of the kids. That makes him love torturing them all the more. He’s a ruthless, bloodthirsty son of a bitch.”

“How do we know there aren’t more?” Nat asked nervously. “Maybe they’ve brought in others since you left.” But Jax shook his head.

“In all the time I was there, Lamm kept the same operation. There was another guy, before Giggles, and when he died Lamm brought in Giggles to replace him. Never anyone else, never any outsiders.”

They continued waiting. The only plan seemed to be to hope that one of Lamm’s henchmen would leave the fishery on his own so they could take him by himself, but that didn’t happen. Erin began to brainstorm. “Maybe we need to get someone inside. They don’t know me – maybe if I went to the door and claimed to be hungry, beg for food, they’d decide to take me prisoner, make me a Lamb, and then we’d be able to learn more about the layout.”

Wren grabbed her arm, her grip painful even through the chain shirt. “No!” she hissed, her eyes wide with terror. “You have no idea – NO idea – just how bad it can be.” Erin saw Wren trembling, and she prised her hand off her arm, then held her hand in her own. “You’re right,” she said softly, gripping the terrified girl’s hand. “That was a bad idea. I won’t go near that place by myself.” Wren seemed to calm.

The sun began to set behind the hills across the river. A steady stream of children began to arrive at the fishery, returning from unknown errands or assignments. They lost count, but there had to have been at least another dozen who entered the fishery before the loading dock doors were finally closed.

It was now full night. There were two windows in the front of the building, but no light escaped through the cracks in the boards. Not sure what to do, they left their stakeout and stealthily approached the building. Jax and Erin peered through the cracks in the front windows, but saw nothing but darkness. Shadow crept around to the loading dock, followed by Tomas. “I’m going to create a little distraction, see what happens,” Shadow whispered, then began casting a spell. Moments later an uproar exploded by the loading dock’s doors, sounding like half a dozen cats fighting. If Shadow expected someone to come out to see what was going on, he was disappointed. Instead, a furious barking and snarling erupted from inside the fishery. It was cut off a few moments later with a furious curse followed by a loud yelp of pain. “Hmmm,” Shadow mused. “Jax didn’t say anything about a dog.”

Jax had gone to the opposite side of the building, where the boardwalk led to another door and then down to the dock. He could see a sliver of light escaping from a window. Taking a deep breath, he began to creep along the walkway as stealthily as he could. The boards were slippery with moisture and moss, and there was no railing between him and the river a dozen feet below. But at least here, the boards seemed to be solid. He reached the window without making any sound, and pressed his eye to one of the cracks between the boards.

The room inside appeared to be a bedroom; he could glimpse the ends of two cots through his narrow field of view. He could hear muffled voices, but couldn’t make them out. Seconds later, Giggles passed through his view. Jax kept watching, and saw part of another person’s back as they sat on one of the beds; it looked like Yargin, but he couldn’t be sure.

Confident he knew were at least two of the gang were, he moved on down the walkway. The door was a little over 10 feet farther on; he was sure (well ... pretty sure) it didn’t open into the bedroom. He softly tried the door – locked. He looked back down the boardwalk, and saw Wren, Nat, and Erin watching him intently. He gave them what he hoped was a confident thumbs-up and pulled out his lockpicks. He worked the lock for a full minute, but it wouldn’t give.  He took a break, took a deep breath, and shook out his hands to relax his tensed fingers. He slid his picks back into the lock and tried again.

And felt the lock’s cylinder begin to turn. He smiled, expecting to hear the soft “click” of the latch coming free. Instead, there was an audible THUMP and a rattle as the door shifted in its frame as the lock came free. He froze, then heard footsteps from inside the fishery.

Jax had no time to lose. He’d never be able to run the length of the boardwalk without making too much noise, and he might lose his footing on the slippery boards if he did. Without thinking, he rolled backwards off the boardwalk and hung by his fingertips over the river below. Seeing this, the others instantly ducked back around the corner of the fishery, pressing themselves against the wall and readying weapons and spells.

The door above him slammed open. “Who’s out here?” a high-pitched voice demanded. Giggles. Jax held his breath. The boards creaked as a dark figure stepped out of the fishery and stood inches from his fingers. Giggles stood there for a moment, looking up and down the boardwalk, then turned back to the door. “Who the fuck left this door unlocked?” he muttered. “As if I didn’t know.” The door slammed, and Jax heard the lock turn, and then the door rattle as Giggles tested it.

When he was sure Giggles was gone, Jax eased himself back up onto the walkway. His arms and fingers ached from holding himself suspended for so long. Nat was peeking back around the corner, and when he saw Jax he waved frantically for him to rejoin them. His heart pounding, Jax retraced his steps. He was so relieved to have survived the near-miss with Giggles, that he forgot to be stealthy, and didn’t even notice the creaking of the boards beneath his feet.

The others were waiting for him; Shadow and Tomas had left the loading dock and joined the rest of the crew. “Giggles and Yargin are in there,” Jax whispered, pointing to the window. “I’m not sure where the others are.”

“Maybe if we did something like Detect Evil,” Wren suggested. If you concentrate, it will tell you how many evil auras there are, and roughly where they’re located.”

But that wasn’t necessary, because two of the auras immediately became obvious. The front door flew open, and Giggles stepped out, flail in hand. At the same time, Yargin burst through the door on the walkway that Jax had just picked. Giggles looked at the motley crew assembled on his front lawn. “Who the fuck are you?” he screeched.