The last minute addition of a dozen cargo crates and an ornate locked wardrobe trunk were carefully loaded aboard the unobtrusive vessel docked at Solhaven at sunset. With warnings from the Captain to keep the client's wardrobe from being scratched, the trunk was placed last into the hold by sailors who grumbled halfheartedly. They sailed on the tide later that evening, and had been promised when the last of their cargo was loaded, the Captain himself was buying a round at the local tavern in celebration of their good fortune.
Moments after the last sailor scrambled up from the hold and the cargo hatch was battened, a faint rustling came from within the wardrobe, followed by a soft clicking noise. Silently, the trunk lid opened and a head slowly raised itself from within. Shoulder length dark hair was tied back and covered by a bandana, with a tattered patch leaving a single sapphire blue eye revealed. Haphazard smudges of soot and grime made facial features difficult to discern clearly. Peering about cautiously, the figure crept out of the trunk on bare feet, lowering the lid back into place soundlessly. Clad in a long sleeved grey cotton shirt, a tattered black vest, and dark blue breeches belted with a loosely tied red silk sash, the mysterious stowaway could be easily mistaken for any common sailor in the port.
Creeping quietly in the shadows, the figure made his way to the steep steps leading to the upper deck. With distinct care he climbed to the top and peered cautiously about the ship's deck, taking note of the few remaining hands left on watch, jealously staring after the boisterous crowd of crew mates making their way along the docks to meet their captain. Taking advantage of their distraction he crawled out onto the deck and scuttled silently to the door of the captain's cabin. Moving with graceful ease, a set of lockpicks was withdrawn from the sash and deftly put to use on the simple lock. Fingers were run along the door's edge as it was pushed open only slightly, hesitating for a brief moment to carefully tug a small cord free from within. After another brief pass along the doorframe with his fingertips, the figure pressed the door open and slipped inside, closing the door after him.
Pausing a long moment to listen to the sounds of the ship, the figure leaned back against the door, his eye flicking to the cord he'd unhooked. It led upward to a small, simple trap mechanism consisting of a wound spring latch, metal mallet and ship's bell. Had the cord been pulled, the latch would have released and the mallet would have repeatedly struck the bell. Allowing a wry smile to cross his lips, he took in the rest of the cabin. A small map table with under-hung drawers, a comfortable looking sea-bed, a large chest at one end and several smaller ones underneath, an hourglass and a pair of wall-mounted storm lanterns and several overhead latched bins were noted silently.
Moving to the edge of the table, he quickly perused the sea charts, then flipped the hourglass over and began inspecting the contents of the drawers. A short, waterproof chart tube was immediately stuffed into his sash, and the remaining contents of the drawers left haphazardly on the tabletop. Quickly, he turned and searched the contents of the cupboards, leaving an empty silver-chased wooden tankard and a sealed ceramic bottle on the bed. Dropping to his knees, he quickly inspected and unlocked the large chest and the smaller strongboxes below. The smaller boxes contained loose coins, several pouches of gems and a few assorted items of jewelry. Two of the pouches were slipped into his vest before he turned to the larger chest.
Inside were various items of clothing, quickly searched and discarded, some personal effects of no lingering interest and a leather document case. Rifling rapidly through the documents, he found them to be typical ledgers and manifests, all apparently in order. He replaced the documents and ran his fingers along the edges of the chest's interior, stopping with a soft exhalation as the lid of the chest gave slightly under his touch. With practiced ease, he slid the false top to one side, revealing a small sheaf of documents concealed within. These were rapidly inspected, and one withdrawn and quickly read. With slow, deliberate care, one corner of the document was torn free in a jagged pattern, a house seal and part of a signature on the portion removed. The smaller torn piece went immediately into the sealed map tube at his waist, while the remaining documents were carefully refolded, placed back in order and returned to their secret location in the chest's lid. Making certain the lid looked undisturbed, he scattered the other contents onto the bed, glancing at the hourglass on the table.
Less than half the sand filled the lower end of the glass. Another quick look around the room met with a nod of satisfaction. The room looked like it had been ransacked hurriedly. He moved to the door, listening intently. The low murmur of those on the deck could be heard between rounds of raucous laughter and singing from the shore and the occasional cry of gulls overhead. He pulled the door open a sliver, moving his head to peer in a wide arc to both sides through the gap. The faintest hint of movement caught his eye, and he froze in place as a figure moved to the door from one side and leaned back against it. As soon as the door began to move, the stowaway pulled the door open, spilling the figure backwards into the cabin! The startled elven crewman looked up in shock, eyes widening in sudden recognition, his mouth opening up to gasp.
"Amav-"
With lightning speed, the standing figure had drawn a dagger from a hidden sheath at his back. Up and back under the chin, the elf was silenced and slain instantly with a thrust that penetrated into his brain stem. A quick glance from the silent killer revealed the rest of the crew continued to be distracted by the laughter and sounds from of the shore. Moving quickly, dagger still pressed tightly into the corpse's head, he placed the stolen gem pouches within the dead elf's shirt. With a glance at the still unsuspecting crew, he quietly dragged the corpse to the seaward rail of the ship and tipped it over, letting himself be pulled over the edge with it. Hitting the water, he immediately yanked the dagger free and re-sheathed it as he pulled himself frantically underneath the keel of the ship, seeking the underside of the dock along the shore.
Surfacing, he heard the shouts of the crew above, and the frantic ringing of the ship's bell. He moved purposefully underneath the docks to one of the many scattered dinghies, pulling himself aboard quickly. Movement below him, a brush of something large against the wooden hull and then a dark fin vanishing into the shallow harbor brought a shiver that had nothing to do with the chill of the water.
Taking advantage of the commotion on the dock and ship in the distance, he quickly wrung some of the seawater from his clothing and climbed the side of the stone quay, briefly taking shelter behind a stack of barrels and cargo crates. Cries from the ship and warnings of sharks in the water could be heard along with the bustle of frantic crewmen and curious townsfolk. As one ship's crew hurried by, he slipped in among the last of the rushing crowd, then moved along and sidestepped into a shadowed alleyway.
Twists and turns through the various shadows of the city brought the damp figure to an inn, where a quick exchange of words obtained him a room key and a nonchalant nod. He made his way up the stairs and into a sparse room with a single travel chest upon the bed and a washbasin on the table. Stripping out of his clothes, he opened the travel chest and withdrew a small bag of bathing supplies. Quickly, he made use of the washbasin, removing the soot and smudges from his face and with some minor effort, his dark hair was washed and rinsed into a golden blonde. Drying himself with the blanket from the bed, he quickly changed into the clothes within, tossing the damp disguise into the empty chest before closing it.
An hour later, Orlaeth Amavirrea stepped out into the streets of Ta'Vaalor from the Etesian Villa with a sealed map tube tucked into the pocket of his longcoat. Passing by a barrel filled with putrid produce outside the grocer's, he discreetly tossed away the crumpled remnants of his Chronomage return ticket.