“Be careful with that,” the man yelled out as several fish fell out of a barrel, the two men carrying the vessel carelessly to the deeper part of the pier. “Are you even trying to carry that?” He bellowed out once again, frustration clearly evident on his face. It was not the first time this had happened, nor did it seem that the workers under him were in any rush to improve on their efforts. He sighed with defeat; this was the price that was paid by going with the cheapest source of labor available.

Vyra simply watched on, leaning against the small stone bench that overlooked everything upon the pier. It was a hobby of hers, to just sit back and watch everything that happened, between the ships, the work, what people were bringing into cities, what they were moving out of cities. There was a solace in it, just seeing the world play out before her. Often times she would simply just sit and watch, imagining the stories behind the ships and their cargos, the fantasies giving her enough of a reason to think that whatever there might have been had the potential to be something better. Better at least than what things were like now.

208/2000

The intake upon the port was at a higher than what had been of recent, much in part due to the changing of the seasons, the summer coming to an end which meant that beyond the economic perspective of things would wane, some goods being more plentiful as the seasons transitioned, but the economies that had been in part built on the summer weather were coming to an end. What remained would see a spike in demand, an increase in price, which meant that for many, it was worth to make a final gambit to acquire as much as possible. Goods harvested within the second season of the summer season would go for perhaps half as much as they potentially stood to if preserved through into the autumn or even winter seasons.

Even less from the perspective of what goods stood to be worth more, another concern that many of those who traversed or made business upon the seas was the knowledge that with the cold came the much greater risk towards the ships. In the worst of conditions, collections of ice, deposits of heavy snow that somehow retained the solid structure and froze further, posed huge risk to the structural fortification of the ships, and by extension to the lives of the people whom were working. With time being a huge factor in ensuring that those who worked aboard the ships during this period, it stressed one of the most pressing times, where even under some of the least ideal circumstances, the risk of something like that stood to be as insignificant as possible.

473/2000

It was hardly a spoken nature amongst the ports, the likelihood of the next storm, the chances that a ship could uncover some sort of situation that stood to throw everything awry. Hard seas could impede a ship to the point of having to wait for things to calm. A storm on the horizon, whether one of frost or otherwise just miserable winds, could equally impede a ship. Not all ships were equal. Not all ships were made to combat the same risks. And for so many of the men who were upon the docks of Hargeon unloading the ship, they faced off against two ever present risks, time and the market.

Growing trade within Hargeon had come to press the locale businesses more and more, particularly during what was being regarded as one of the most prosperous summers in recent memory. The influx of patrons who were looking to buy goods increased the demand for various goods, and in expecting that this was going to be a consistent trend, more goods were ordered, greater reason was determined for ships that either harvested or otherwise transported goods to focus on Hargeon, but the longer it took for those orders to be realized, the less demand there came to be. Merchants had no interest in paying for goods that were no longer relevant, and to reward a ship and its crew for failing to meet scheduled delivery would only stand to set a poor standard.

It stressed urgency for the crews working. Making sure that all goods were accounted were as critical to their success as it was that they even managed to satisfy the respective order. Every single thing which could have been held against them stood to potentially interfere in no shortage of ways, and for Vyra who watched all the action around her, the couple of fish that they have fallen to the ground, as insignificant she may have found them to be, that stood to a domino that would potentially have stood to ruined a ship crew’s chance of finding work again in Hargeon.

820/2000

“I swear, if you people can’t do a simple job like moving fish from there to here, then why do we even bother work with you at all?” The man’s rage was nothing new to many of these workers, but that did not make things any better. For many workers, abuse was not uncommon; these jobs were often poor-paying, the people who were working them generally gravitating towards them due to a combination of relatively low requirements as well as the fact that it was hardly something that was specialized or required a huge deal of training. Working the piers were not like working as a blacksmith or apothecary. The tasks were often menial, and so long as one had the physical strength to satisfy the labor demanded of the job and the fortitude to endure the persistent scent of sea water, fish, and whatever other wastes came from the ships, it was a venture that plenty could achieve.

There also was another reason for the people leaning towards the jobs upon the dock, and it was for that of a much darker intent. Pirating goods was a very profitable and easy job to get involved in. But at the same right, it left with it a great deal of risk. Pirates were often dealt with cruelly, with some who have advocated against the act of piracy even openly stating their concerns towards the punishment. The gallows were hardly a new thing, but in recent years, in an attempt to combat a growing degree of piracy, some places had pushed harder and harder to punish even the most insignificant or intrusive manners of piracy with the finality that came with executions.

But despite all of the risk that came with piracy, the gain that stood to come with it was too great for them to not attempt. And for those who managed to find themselves within a group that specialized in or otherwise hoped to get involved with the smuggling operations throughout Fiore, one of the better places to get not only familiarity with your target, but also hone skills were by working at the docks.

Vyra almost certainly did not realize it, but as she watched all of the workers, perhaps half of them either had previously, currently do, or at some point plan to work with a smuggling group.

1211/2000

She continued to watch what was going on, only a few ships in the docks, which in truth was a bit of a surprise. With the season coming closer and closer to an end, it was more common that a greater influx of ships would be near the docks, but this few, to say that it was a slow day was even an understatement. It did also make one wonder why the man who was pushing and complaining as often and loudly as he was towards his fish was in a rush. Amongst the people who were working on the dock, there could have been more than enough people to handle everything and at the same time not feel as though anyone were being too heavily pushed. It was truthfully the ideal situation for most merchants and ship captains.

But sometimes they simply failed to appreciate this fact. Sometimes all it took was an incident too many to eventually cause one of the workers to break their allegiance, to determine it more worthwhile to go rogue and take what they felt was rightfully theirs. Vyra looked on, highly interested, as one such incident appeared that it was about to take place. It involved a total of maybe four people in total, the angry ship captain and three workers, the two men who were accosted, and a third person who was working close. It would have been easy enough for most people to not notice what was happening, but Vyra had spent enough time around the ports now that this was becoming more and more common, the signs started to become more apparent, at least for her somewhat-trained eyes.

1489/2000

The third man initiated everything, smashing what looked like a crowbar of some sort into one of the crates that had yet to be moved off of the pier. The sound of the wood being cracked open was enough to get not only the attention of his cohorts and their employer, but also others who were nearby, such an incident being regarded as a taboo among the dock-workers. As the ship captain tried to stop him, the other two lunged at him, striking at him hard with a crowbar that had been in their possession and a small crate that otherwise had been left around.

A crowbar shot to the chest and the small crate being thrown against his head was enough to cause the man to fall back to the ground, unconscious and unable to stop the men from further pillaging through the crates. Vyra leaned over the railing that she had been watching from, watching with equal surprise to that of the dock workers when they threw the fish out of the containers, revealing large collections of old coins. In some cases, gold, in other cases, older materials or even less valuable metals. It was a unique scenario in which the smugglers were actually smuggling from the smuggler. A delightful instance of irony, but as well it stood to be a chance of opportunity for even someone like Vyra. With enough coins like that, because of their rare nature, it was a huge risk to be using them freely, and while she had no way of selling many of the coins, she did not need to. So long as there were some Jewels or otherwise commonly traded goods within the containers, she could sell those without great risk.

Antiques were dangerous. Common treasures were always safer to gamble with.

1790/2000

No doubt overconfident in how they had managed to deal with the ship captain, the three men took a great deal of time to examine ever piece of item that was within the crates. Not just those on the dock still, but also those that were still atop the ship. As they ascended up to inspect the goods there, that was when Vyra made her move. Approaching the ship, many of the contents of the smuggling group all laid about for her or anyone else to simply take, she noticed multiple strips of rope that were laid about, often used to keep the cargo from shifting in position whilst the ship was moving. That there were so much laying around, she found herself wondering something.

Being careful, she ascended up the ship as well, fortunate in that the men were completely and utterly obsessed with some of the goods that were within the now-open crates. Also though, much more to Vyra’s happiness, were many ropes and partial lashes that were wrapped upon themselves laying on the ground, the remnants of them having been lazy with moving the crates. It was perfect honestly and it gave Vyra a brilliant idea. Multiple heavy crates lined the outer rim of the ship’s upper layer; enough force, even to what Vyra could muster, would be enough to cause them to fall overboard. If someone, such as Vyra, were to put those ropes within the crates and turn them into convenient harnesses or leg traps, something that were easy enough to do with the men equally as distracted and otherwise focused on the goods as they were, then she could have pushed a crate or two, causing it to fall to the depths of the sea, taking the men with them.

Feeling no serious sense of urgency given how lazily the men were handling the goods, preferring to go through the goods, which from the crate that they were looking at, happened to have been a large cask of some sort of alcohol, likely wine or a very strong mead, based on the smell of what spilled out onto the ship’s deck. Vyra opted to create a rather large rope, one that would be able to keep all of them entangled, but she needed a way to execute such an idea, and an idea came to her, albeit a foolish one.

With her little rope harness finished, she approached the men, hoping that they had drank enough fast enough to not ask any questions, namely why she was even on the ship. She gave not a single a chance to speak before she handed one of them the rope, getting onto her knees as she wrapped the harness around the man’s belt. Interpreting this as something else entirely, one of the men approached her, to which she did the same process, also wrapping a part of the rope around the man’s belt. She repeated the process with the third person and as she gave them an exotic look, she made her way towards the heavy crate, the contents of several full casks, still within it. Flashing them a seductive smile, she began to perform the beginnings of an exotic dance in order to draw them into a false sense of safety before pushing the crate into the water, sending all three men into it just behind.

Their screams echoed through the dock as they quickly disappeared beneath the water, still stuck to the crate as it began to descend to the sea floor, almost certainly taking their lives with them. She gave them a final look, making sure there were no bubbles rising to the surface, indicative of any sort of effort they may be making to get away. After a minute of watching, she looked through one of the open crates, pulling out a handful of small, but valuable gemstones, and then one of the few bottles of valuable mead that were still on the deck and casually made her way off of the ship, satisfied with what she had done.

2467/2000