Underlying Causes

Stormwind Harbor, Falconoak Pier

Midnight

Rosellina moved quietly, each footstep carefully planned to avoid bumping into any of the crates or other materials left along the ship's deck or within the storerooms beyond. Some of the deck-boards could potentially creak from her weight, so she took care to apply weight slowly with her toes first before planting her boots in place.

It made for mind-numbingly slow going and was nerve-wracking given the presence of armed sailors patrolling the edge of the pier, but Rosellina knew that she couldn't afford to alert the men of her presence. Although it took an agonizingly long time, she finally made her way across the ship's deck and over to the one storeroom that had a lock affixed across its double doors.

With a smile on her lips, Rosellina crouched down, her lithe fingers deftly working a tool into the lock and manipulating the tumblers within. In a moment the lock popped open, and she eased the small bit of chain keeping the doors closed to the side and slipped inside, pulling the door closed behind her.

She found herself in a storeroom that was located beneath the aft deck of the ship, unconnected to the other rooms on the vessel. The isolation of the room and the fact that there was only one entrance which had been locked spoke volumes of the value of the cargo stored in the House Falconoak vessel. The room was filled almost floor to ceiling with the flat crates that Rosellina had observed being loaded earlier in the day, their exteriors devoid of any markings or other identification. Quite odd considering that most merchant goods were stamped with their contents and their port of origin.

After quickly surveying the place, Rosellina hurried across the room, crouching down next to one of the smaller stacks of the crates and running her hands over the topmost one. Up close she could see that the crates were about four feet long and a foot high, and wide enough to span several feet across. They were not crates that would be able to store bulk cargo, and Rosellina recalled the difficulty the men had had when handling them; clearly they were filled with heavy objects.

She reached to her belt and pulled out a utility knife, carefully applying it to the edges of the crate. In a matter of moments she'd popped the lid open and set it aside, her brown eyes widening as she discovered just why the crates had been so heavy and why they had an odd shape.

They were filled with swords.

Not just swords, unmarked swords. Swords that had no smith's stamp on them or any indication of military company or organization. Rosellina quickly looked around the room, estimating the sheer quantity of weapons likely contained in the crates around her.

Someone was outfitting an army.

But what army? And who was behind the shipment?

The thoughts swirled through her mind, but one thing was perfectly clear; she had to get a report in to SI:7 immediately. If these weapons had been meant for Stormwind's army they would have either been distributed in the city itself, or would have been clearly marked with their origin and stamped with a smith's mark and the company number they were requisitioned for. There was illegal arms dealing going on here, and someone needed to know about it right away.

Just as the thought passed through Rosellina's mind, a gruff voice called out on the ship's deck outside, “Hey! Are you people daft? You were supposed to put a lock on the storeroom!”

Another voice replied some distance away, seemingly perturbed, “I DID put a lock on it. Are you blind or something? Idiot...”

Rosellina moved quickly, affixing the lid back on the crate as quietly as she could. She looked around the room and saw that there was only a narrow window port at the storeroom's rear. It was likely locked and she had no time to work the lock. In a rush she dashed towards the highest pile of crates, nimbly scrambling up the surface.

With her hands and feet, she managed to brace herself between two ceiling beams above the storeroom just in time as the door banged open. Beneath her a sailor stormed in, a lantern in his hand. He held it up, peering around the room suspiciously, standing directly beneath Rosellina's position. She looked down at him from her place at the ceiling, her dark hair hanging down around her face and her body utterly still. She didn't even dare to draw in a breath.

After a moment, the sailor grunted to himself and lowered his lantern, turning and leaving the storeroom. She could hear the door slam shut and the sound of the chain being put back in place, the sailor muttering curses under his breath the entire time. Rosellina gave herself a moment to congratulate her quick thinking in avoiding detection; they never looked up.

Unfortunately, she was now locked in the storeroom. She urgently needed to escape and report her findings to headquarters. With the sailor gone, she hopped down, landing lightly on the floor and moving towards the port window in the back of the room. It was locked as she'd suspected but with a bit of oil that she carried with her she had it open and the window free with not a whisper of sound. The portal was just wide enough for her to shimmy her hips through, so it would likely do for an escape route.

There was just one problem; the neighboring dock was more than ten feet from the side of the ship, and Rosellina didn't know how to swim.

She looked down into the dark blackness of the harbor's water, the moonlight reflecting off its surface. She looked back up to the neighboring dock, despairing. It might as well have been a thousand miles away; she'd never be able to leap that distance. Even so, she knew she had to try; someone had to be warned about what she'd discovered.

With determination on her face, Rosellina perched on the window's ledge, preparing herself mentally for what she was about to do. With a deep breath, she launched herself into the air, flying towards the neighboring dock. The wood sped towards her, and hope rose in her heart as she began to think she might make it. Unfortunately she quickly reached the highest point in the arc of her jump, and she began to fall short of her goal. With feet left to spare, she plunged into the cool waters of the harbor, the water swallowing her in an instant.

Beneath the dark surface of the water she floated in utter blackness, panic rising up in her as she saw the glimmering light of the moon getting further and further away. She tried her best to thrash her arms, only managing to stall her descent into the black depths of the water below her but unable to bring herself closer to that glowing moon.

As her air began to run out, she stared at the moon, its light rippling through the impossible distance to the water's surface. Despair began to run through her, and she prepared herself for that moment when her lungs would give out and water would rush in. Deep in her mind, a single thought drifted through the internal screaming that echoed in her head.

This is the absolute dumbest way I could have died...

Even as she thought it, a sharp pain lanced through her scalp. To her surprise she felt herself rising, the pain overwhelmed by a feeling of relief as that moon got closer to her and her head broke the surface. She took in a great gasping breath, the air the only thing she could think about for a moment until she realized that she was in a great deal of pain.

Someone had pulled her out of the water by her hair, and it hurt like a bitch.

She flailed around, and felt arms slipping under her own arms and pulling her up further, onto the dock. She was deposited roughly on her back, still gasping as she stared up at the sky. The face of a fisherman loomed over her, concern on his face mixed with some irritation.

“Lass, if you don't know how to swim, don't be wanderin' so close to the edge of the dock eh?” he said gruffly. “Done went and scared away all the fish now with your thrashin'. Now I ain't gonna be eatin' tonight.”

Rosellina took in a few more gasps of breath before she nodded at him, murmuring a thank you. She reached into a pouch on her belt, feeling coins in her hand. She thrust them at the man, gold spilling from her palm into his and onto the dock around them; far more than was justified. She didn't care though, she was alive and she had a job to do.

As the man gathered up the coins, he paused as he watched the drenched girl run off, leaving wet bootprints behind her and making a squelching sound as she ran. He shook his head, counting the excessive amount of gold she'd just paid him.

“Ah well, that'll do then lass, that'll do,” he said to no one in particular. He shook his head again, heading towards a nearby tavern and a nice dinner, “Wish all my fishing trips ended with such a valuable catch.”

He chuckled, walking away leaving the dock empty and quiet behind him, the House Falconoak ship sitting ominously at its own pier in the darkness of the harbor.