Port Arn

Port Arn, busy from dawn til dusk, is packed at noon with sailors on leave, dockworkers hauling freight to warehouses and dirty steerage men, barefoot and coated with coal dust, making last minute rounds to clear ships for departure. The warm, eastern ocean, lapping lazily at the wood pilings of the piers, is calm and glistening along the coast. From one of the smaller ships, with strange symbols painted onto the port side, a figure clad in silks of gold and royal blue is being escorted by two armed soldiers with similar markings on their shields and cloth. Each soldier, helmeted and bearing steel long swords sheathed at their hips, keeps the figure between both of them and their shields facing forward, pushing a throng of workers and peasants out of their way. Behind the trio, half a dozen men and women wearing similar silks follow them down the ramp from the ship.

Swooping silently on the on warm thermals, a golden eagle finally came to rest on the highest vantage point the rooftops could offer. It was not far from the port that gave the town its name, providing him a full view of all the new ships that came to dock there. To his opposite side, the streets of a bustling port town spread before him.

Momentarily closing his eyes, Sennex breathed the salty sea air. Even with the scent of all the commotion below him, it felt refreshing. It was good to rest on firm ground after the journey from the Imperial City. He would have preferred to travel in a less conspicuous disguise, but the golden eagle was one of few birds large and strong enough to carry a spyglass in addition to the letter that most message-hawks carried. The soft leather harness was beginning to pull ever more heavily with the weight of his prison.

He had long ceased hoping that one master would be better or worse than another, and thus didn't hope for or against acceptance by this one. He did, however, wonder about his own fate should the legendary assassin refuse the emperor's . . . generous gift. This current state of limbo could not last long.

Catching the glint of steel, Sennex turned his fiery gaze to the port side. The commotion around the travel-weary but exotic ship was easy to spot, even without eagle vision. The ship's symbols where ancient, and he could almost read them. Surely, this must be the ambassador with his retinue. If there was an assassin, such a person would not be far.

Lifting off once more, Sennex flew in for a closer look, silent as silk.

The soldiers continued to push through the crowd to a huge horse-drawn gold and scarlet carriage pulling up to the street corner. Four black Clydesdales decorated with short plumes and blinders trotted gallantly in procession and came to a full stop at the bottom of the ramp. One of the silk-clad men behind the ambassador stepped up to open the carriage door.

As the ambassador turned his head and climbed inside, Sennex could see the pale blond hair and slender, pointed ears of the High Elf. He wore a frown on his thin lips, and his arched brows and high bridge simply gave credit to the rumors regarding his condescending nature. He turned up his nose, perhaps sizing up the carriage or judging the quality of its velvet-lined seats, lowered his head and climbed inside. The footman followed suit, and the remaining passengers ascended a set of small steps to the open level atop the carriage. The guards took up seats behind the driver, and within seconds, the driver cracked a whip. The horses began to head down the road again, turning left away from the bay, down another street just before they reached the docks.

Circling around the small band of travelers in a wide arc, Sennex watched as a lavish carriage pulled up to a stop conveniently before the band. Considering his expression, he wondered if the fair male with Elfin features would refuse such a splendid ride.

I'd like to see the weakling walk.

The petty thought quickly vanished as the Elf who he could only imagine to be the ambassador stepped inside. No other could have so strong an aura. And just as quickly as it had appeared, it vanished. Sennex could no more sense the ambassador's presence within the carriage than he could remember his own birth. His low growl of frustration erupted as a piercing eagle's shriek as he swooped slightly lower and in line with the carriage's path. As each member of the foreign party entered, they bacecame effectively invisible to any attempt to the dginn's senses. The protective magic surrounding it was strong.

Well, at least this was a reasonable excuse to follow the retinue. Perhaps he could learn something interesting before the assassin he was looking for arrived. Rising higher, he kept a close eye on the carriage below.

The driver, a middle-aged man with salt-and-pepper hair, cracked the whip, shouting "Kyah! Kyah!" with each crack, and the Clydesdales' hooves clopped along the cobblestone streets, away from the busy port, through the residential part of town, where children played on the front lawns of stonework houses with slate roofing, and elderly couples sat on their porches, watching traffic.

When they got to the end of the neighborhood, the driver hollered, "Whoa!" tugging on the reins until the horses slowed at the boardwalk, a dusty path running parallel to the road alongside a precipice overlooking the Arisha. To the right, the lighthouse stood out on the rocks in the distance, and to the left, out on the peninsula, the Embassy, a huge stone mansion with a tower facing the east, stood out against the horizon. There was little traffic except for pedestrians strolling the boardwalk, and the passage of the carriage might as well have gone unnoticed if not for the sound of hooves and wheels on the bumpy street.

They headed for the peninsula and turned onto a dirt road winding up a cliff face to the embassy, the horses slowing pace as they started the last leg of their journey. Trees and high rock walls shaded them most of the way, and when they entered the courtyard, the afternoon sun shone almost directly on top of clipped hedges and an Alyth fountain statue in the very center, depicting one of the sea elf maidens combing her long hair and peering into the water. At the top of a wide stair, the huge wooden doors to the embassy opened as the horses came to a full stop outside the building, and two Imperial Honor Guards with staves, ceremonial escutcheons and helms, stepped to either side of the entrance.

Sennex kept up with the carriage at a lazy pace. He recognized the route, noting the familiar rivers and curve of the land. Unlike many of his mortal counterparts, Sennex relied little on roads and signs to maintain his bearings. With the winds of trade from the sea keeping him afloat, he was able to concentrate his senses on what went on below. The sea itself, which had changed names countless times within his lifetime, was calm this day. Its shimmering surface dazzled the eye better than any pile of jewels. This is what Sennex noticed more than the Zamil citizens carrying out their tasks of daily life in clothes even more worn than the year before, because the scent on the breeze and the sound on the wind told him more than the words of the emperor himself.

But the carriage turned its back on this stunning sight without so much as a backward glance, and Sennex followed as if bound by an invisible leash. Always, always following. Whether as a predator or servant was still unclear. There was still no discernible sign of the Drenn Assassin, and his mental connection was still weak (indeed, still partially bound to his old master). Yet a sixth sense - derived from generations of experience with whatever powers bound him to those he served - made him uncomfortable. Some described it as a variation of the connections twins had to one another, which allowed one to sense when the other was in trouble. Whatever one wished to call it, it was the same discomfort he felt when the sinister side of human nature threatened a master's life or limb. A side that Sennex was very familiar with.

When the ornate carriage finally pulled to a rest before the Embassy, Sennex took his rest atop a stone in the shape of a woman's head. He took no care as to whether such a landing spot was socially graceful or not, as the matter didn't concern a dginn disguised as one of the most ferocious predators of the sky. On the contrary, the light spray off the fountain felt pleasant, yet did not settle his ruffled feathers. He was still on edge.

Taking his mind off the metaphysical, Sennex noted how the guards stood to attention. Cocking his head slightly to the right, he observed the foreign passengers as they stepped out to meet their hosts. Greetings had a way of revealing one's feelings and character, much like scent told more than actions to a creature keen enough to sense it. Unfortunately, elves and humans were not as keen as other creatures when it came to scent, and most had a way of missing important details. Like a rather large eagle watching them from an Embassy fountain. Or that same eagle lifting off and snatching a treat that the driver had given the horses.

The Ambassador, followed by his servants- if one of them was not a servant, they made no move to show it, for they had done nothing but wait on him hand and foot and trail behind him like a gaggle of geese since they arrived. The procession climbed the stone steps, two man-servants carrying his luggage, followed by the footman and three women... for what reason they were there Naonna only knew. One of the women looked a bit older and better-dressed than the others. Give or take a few frown lines around her mouth and indents on her forehead, she resembled the Ambassador. They had the same tall foreheads, prudish noses and permanent frowns. No one so much as batted an eye toward the courtyard, but when the High Elves reached the top of the stair, the ambassador halted before a woman garbed in red and gold attire and demanded to immediately see the Consul.

"Forgive me, Ambassador. We were not expecting your company until later this afternoon," she curtsied lightly. "The Consul is busy with another representative, but-"

"You'll excuse us Madame, as we elves pride ourselves in being punctual." His frowned deepened as his slanted eyes narrowed to slits. "Either take me to the Consul, or we will gladly return to the Dionysius and call off this whole ordeal-"

"Begging your pardon, Sir, but I was going to assure you the Consul will be most... pleased that you are here. If you will follow me to the lobby, I will inform him of your arrival. Right this way."

"Good, at least someone here has half a mind," he muttered to one of his man-servants as they followed the woman into the building.

The honor guards closed the doors and resumed their posts, eyes scanning the courtyard as the driver checked the cargo hold, shut the doors to the stagecoach and climbed into the front seat. Glancing around, he thought for sure he had seen something near the fountain, but when he looked, it was gone. He guided the horses around the fountain and back to the driveway leading out to the peninsula.

Partially concealed behind a stone column, a dark shape peered out over the edge of the parapet at the travelers entering the embassy. When the doors shut, it slipped into cover, vanishing from sight.

The horses protested that even a part of their reward for the long journey had been swiped, but Sennex only eagle-called in return. Landing shamelessly atop the ornate carriage, he thoroughly enjoyed his single sugar cube. It was not often that he had the pleasure of any sort of meal, as he needed sustenance only when not in his natural form for extended periods of time.

The view from the large vehicle allowed Sennex a splendid sight of the procession. They seemed mightily uncomfortable in those fine, and now crumpled garments. All except the ambassador and the woman beside him. He could almost smell their arrogance. As for the others, they stood in silent submission behind their leader. One had the character to blush at the ambassador's bold disrespect, but she could do nothing. Sennex understood.

As no one cared to spare a glance his way, he considered the possibility of amusing himself by picking off one or more of the ornate jewels carried by the two Elves. Only to demonstrate the importance of being aware of one's surroundings, of course. Why anyone should wish to weigh themselves down in such a way for a long journey he couldn't imagine.

Looking up and down the Embasy's façade to gain a better lay of possible perches, Sennex's sharp amber eye caught an unnatural shadow near the parapet. He stood completely still as he fixated on it. As much as he suspected the identity of the unwelcome guest, he found that the forces of his nature suggested otherwise. Wrong assassin. But the right idea . . .

Taking off once more (and leaving behind talon marks on the carriage roof as he did so), Sennex flew towards the suspect parapet as gracefully as his baggage would allow. He took care not to bolt in a hunting strike, hoping not to scare the intruder off. The longer he considered Sennex a simple bird of prey, the more he would be able to learn on Fade's behalf. If this is who he thought it was, he had just entered a dangerous political game.

The cloaked figure turned away just as the eagle flew to the rooftop. From the backside, Sennex could tell the person was male, lacking the appropriate curves, and the hurried, furtive steps taken to the tower overlooking the ocean were much too heavy. The man glanced over once or twice, but the side of his hood both tunneled his peripheral vision and prevented Sennex from seeing a face.

The tower at the end had a single window, naught but a stone hole in the wall, positioned to the southeast, and only a few stone blocks sticking out of the wall offered footholds. Nevertheless, the man took out a length of rope and an iron grappling hook from within his cloak and tied the two together with a figure eight knot. He took the rope between his teeth and tested his weight on one of the blocks, bracing with one hand and pulling himself up with the other. Inching his way from one foothold to the next, he paid close attention to his hands and feet, never hesitating until he reached the last foothold, putting the opening above him barely within grasp.

With his free hand, he threw the grappling hook through the window. The eagle's sharp eyes would catch a glimpse of pale, bluish skin and a sliver of white hair as the man tilted his head back and tugged on the rope. He wrapped the end of the rope around his palm, not bothering to secure it to his waist, and hoisted himself, his breathing labored as he climbed up and dropped, unceremoniously over the ledge and into the tower. He glanced out the window at last, at the scenic vista, or maybe the feeling he was being followed caught up to him, but if the eagle had passed by the window, he seemed satisfied nothing was following, but Sennex might notice the red eyes and broad features of a dark elf just before the man turned to enter the shadows of the room within.

With barely a rustle, Sennex landed securely on a short wooden roost, conveniently placed directly above one of the corners of the great front doors and behind a part of the facade that rose up a few feet from the rooftop to act as a sort of guard against unfortunate souls falling off. The many talon marks on the sturdy post suggested that the guards of this Embassy practiced falconry, and that Sennex was putting it to good use.
Considering itself safe from prying eyes, the conspicuously dark-clad figure before him made no secret of its nervous haste. Sennex didn’t need to try to break down the mental barrier the man had created to hide his intentions to deduce what they might be. The strength of it suggested and experienced hand, but still could not hide the darkness surrounding him. A suspiciously familiar darkness . . .

Sennex didn’t flinch when the man glanced behind him (or maybe it was to the side, he couldn’t tell). If the intruder had noticed the eagle at all, he didn’t show it. On the contrary, he continued his brazen ascent up the Embassy’s walls. Sennex bristled upon catching a glimpse of the supposed assassin’s hand. The few moments that he was forced to push back his disguise even the smallest amount where enough to reveal two distinguishing characteristics that the djinn associated with only one creature. A Dark Elf. And Sennex was familiar with only one such Elf, one who nursed his hatred and would kill for it. Now the game was getting interesting.

With barely half a dozen strokes of his broad wings, Sennex covered the distance between his perch and the window sill over which the Elf had disappeared. Peering inside, Sennex could see only in shadows before his eagle vision adjusted to the dimmer lighting. Yet the high noon sun from above provided enough light for him to catch the characteristic features of a Dark Elf, visible almost long enough to determine whether or not the features where familiar before he turned away.

Grateful for the element of surprise, Sennex decided to take his guise one step further. He had an almost amusing idea, one that would allow the elite interrogators of the Embassy to ask the questions he needed (or wanted) answers to. Swooping inside, he stood on the threshold of the single doorway that led out of the tower room and stared curiously at the cloaked Elven man before him, making no secret of his presence. Presuming he had not been suspected earlier, there was no reason for Sennex to appear as anything but an Embassy eagle belonging to one of the falcon masters. His leather harness completed the picture. He hoped it was not offset too much by the spyglass inside.