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Twisting open the doorknob, the guard pushed open the door and stepped into the room. Shuffling in behind Rhian and the others, Ifan noticed the large table in the centre of the room covered in strewn about papers. Three trolls stood around its sides, two men and one woman. One of the men was wearing a sleek waistcoat and his tusk – the other had fallen out – was painted half white, contrasting lightly with their natural ivory colour. Though he was missing one of his tusks, it was a lesser fate to his companions, who had seemingly completely lost theirs. The other man was older; his grey, wispy hair was held in a top knot on his head, its length running down his back held together in bands. Draped in furs, his face was stern, and his snarled mouth betrayed the heightened emotions of the interrupted argument. The woman was tall, taller than the men in fact. Wearing a sleek summer dress, she was stooped over a thick, black cane. Ifan wondered how tall she would have stood in her youth; she was only a hare shorter than Gustov in her current state, which impressed and frightened Ifan.
“The fishermen. What of their fate?” the older troll addressed the group.
“We… We had to kill them. They would not see reason and attacked us on sight. It seems they had succumbed to tainted arcanum.” Ifan spoke clearly and authoritatively, locking eyes with the troll.
“Better an outsider than a friend, I suppose. Thank you.”
Ifan bowed, prompting the others in the group to join him. Gustov was the slowest on the uptake and begrudgingly joined in, sneering when his face was most obscured.
“We’re happy to be of assistance. The reason we were there in the first place was on behest of the fishermen. There had apparently been an outbreak of thefts on the docks.”
“I put in the request actually,” said the troll in the waistcoat. “A week or so ago. You’re quite late.”
“Standard administrative delays, I’m sure you know the kind.” Ifan smiled at the man, hoping to win him over from his less than ideal first impressions. “We should formally introduce ourselves. I’m Ifan ap Rhydian, of the adventuring guild Terananth, and these are my guildmates, Gustov, Rhiannon and Angharad.”
The group bowed briefly as their names were called, and the eyes of the trolls bounced over each of them in turn. The older troll with the top knot however stared at Ifan, his eyes squinting as he stroked his chin.
"Nice to make your acquaintance. I spoke with –”
“Where do I know you from boy?” the top-knot troll interrupted his colleague in the waistcoat.
Smiling, Ifan responded, “We’ve met before, Lord Hugin.” Ifan bowed with gusto, eliciting a wide-eyed gasp from Hugin.
“Your majesty!” Hugin bowed deeply, his hair flipping over his head as the other trolls looked on, puzzled.
“I don’t expect my elders to bow so deeply to me, Hugin. Please, I’m here today as an adventurer, at your town’s service.” Ifan held his hand out to Hugin, who erected himself sheepishly and clasped Ifan’s hand.
“Prince Ifan?” the troll lady was the first to break her silence.
“One and the same, Lady Vol’teir.” Ifan smiled at her and offered her his hand. She took it and attempted to shake it before he reached his head down to kiss her fingers. “Your reputation proceeds you, Hugin always spoke very highly of you.”
“Thank you, your majesty.” Vol’teir blushed before pulling her hand back to her side.
Flustered, the troll in the waistcoat attempted to regain his composure, “Your majesty. Dockmaster Greln. I am.” Stumbling over his words, Greln bowed to Ifan. “I mean, I am Dockmaster Greln. Your humble subject.”
“Thank you Greln, you may stand.” Ifan offered his hand to Greln and shook it. Greln smiled awkwardly at him as he stared into Ifan’s eyes. “Apologies for the interruption, Dockmaster. Please, continue.”
“Ahem. Yes. As I was saying, I spoke with your… superior? Guild Master Hephaestus.” Ifan nodded, and Greln continued, “As I mentioned to him, we were dealing with a problem of thieves on the docks. We’ve managed to determine the origin of the thieves; a sahuagin was spotted a few days ago stealing the arcanum we had locked away in the dock storehouse.”
"Hmmm. That must mean the uncivilised magical races are also suffering from withdrawal,” said Angharad.
“Yes, quite. We tracked them back to a coastal cave a few miles down the straits to the east, but before we could mount our own attack, we received our first batch of tainted arcanum. Our fishermen were the canary in the coal mine as it were, and we had to abandon the docks.”
“So, you’ve lost access to your stored clean arcanum, and all of your fishermen went feral. At the very least you have access to the docks now we’ve… done away with the fishermen,” said Ifan.
“But chances are the sahuagin have taken both our clean arcanum and likely have their hands on the fishermen’s tainted arcanum. Feral sahuagin are something I’d rather not think about, but they need to be dealt with before they serve a greater threat for the townsfolk.” Greln sighed, before adjusting his waistcoat idly.
Looking around at the others for confirmation, Ifan nodded to Greln, “We can help with that; shouldn’t be a problem.”
“As long as we’re still going to get paid,” interjected Gustov.
“I’m sure that will be fine, Gus.” Rhian batted him with her hand, her face flush with second-hand embarrassment.
“Yes, you can be sure we’ll pay you – with what little we’ve still got in our budgets.” Greln bowed lightly to the group, before turning to the table. Shifting some of the papers, he revealed the table’s surface. It showed a map of the region surrounding Aberhaf, and he pointed to a small inlet to the east. “Here’s the cave – about an hour’s journey on foot. It reveals itself during the low tide, which is in about three hours’ time and will last for about four hours. So, you’ll have the afternoon to get in and out of the caves.”
“So, a bit of a time crunch?” Angharad stepped up to the table and took a closer look.
“Indeed. If you stay in there too long, the mouth of the cave will be submerged in deep, choppy waters, and you’ll be stuck there until morning, barring some miracle, or an unknown secondary exit further inland.”
Peering over Angharad, Ifan glanced at the map, “Do you have any copies of this? On parchment, ideally.” Her chainmail jingled as he placed his hand on her shoulder to get a better look.
The guard spoke up, “Yessir. I can get them to you before you leave.”
“Much appreciated, Boon.” Hugin’s face softened as he smiled at Boon, who stood to attention and bowed lightly in response.
“That should be all we need. Is there anything else we need to know?” asked Ifan.
“Don’t try and fight the sahuagin in deep water if you can help it. They’ll tear you land-folk apart.” Vol’teir joined in the conversation, her face stony with seriousness. “Piercing weapons work best if you do find yourself stuck in their midst underwater. We should have spare spears and harpoons if you’d like them. Boon will show you to them if you require.”
“Thank you, Vol’teir.” Ifan nodded at the troll, and a blush broke across her face.
“Your majesty.”
“There is one thing I’d like to discuss before you leave.” Hugin stepped towards Ifan, placing one hand on the table beside them. “Something you could relay back to your sister, perhaps, your highness.”
“Yes, Hugin?”
“The tainted arcanum. It was shipped to us in government containers, by a shipping company we’d not heard of. Magifreight.”
Ifan looked back at Hugin, struggling to process exactly what this meant, “You suspect there’s duplicity involved?”
“Aye, bad actors masquerading as government officials to get tainted arcanum in the hands of the magical races in Inarell. That’s my assumption anyway. The only other option is that the government’s gone mad and is poisoning its civilians.” Hugin’s mouth curled into a snarl, “but that would never happen, would it?”
“I’d be surprised if it were. Thank you, Hugin. I’ll be sure to let Gwen know as soon as possible.” Ifan offered his hand to Hugin once more, and he accepted it while breaking out into a grin that tightened the age lines on his face.
“Atta’ boy. Right then, we’ve matters to attend to. If you would be so kind, Boon, as to escort our guests to the surveyors’ office and barracks.” Hugin stepped back and smiled at the group.
“Yessir.” Boon bowed at his superior and beckoned to the group. Shuffling behind him, they left the town hall and headed a few hundred metres through the abandoned roads to the guards’ barracks.
