FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Cargo

Written By: Skabaard

It had been a quiet, cold night. The cloudless sky lacked a moon this time of month, and the darkness left the expanse above awash with the distant, uncountable lights of the universe. Emma was having trouble keeping her eyes from meandering upward. The breeze was an icy one, but it tugged stubbornly on the sable hide of her wings, entreating her to leap skyward anyway. If anything, the seasonal chill in the air left her tense and stiff. She felt like she needed a good stretch.

She kept her taloned, digitigrade feet on the ground, however, instead lashing the air with her powerful, tapering tail to suppress her petulant frustration. She was needed exactly where she was. The young dragoness and her team were strolling casually but carefully through the midnight shadow toward the shore of the great lake that had formed at the foot of the Southcliff falls. In the distance, she could make out the long, vertical line of the falls themselves, and beyond that the city itself, lights twinkling like so many extra stars adorning the walls.

The Lower City was almost as expansive as the jeweled crown that sat atop the cliffs, endless arrays of warehouses, homes, and business were arranged in an orderly mess, and even in this inhospitable hour, the occasional citizen could still be found out and about, though they were quick to get out of the three Lancer's collective way. Emma wondered how many of them were simply trying to finish the day's chores or get a head start on those of the next, and how many were out for less reputable purposes when the vigilant watch of the Southcliff guard was hindered by the night.

Ultimately, though, it didn't matter. She and the two figures that walked with her had their own duties to fulfill, and they couldn't afford to be late. Eventually, they reached the shore of the lake, the endless rows of piers and jetties and docks for larger ships, and made their way onto it, their steps growing ever more cautious. "The rat said that the meeting was happening on one of the southernmost piers, near a tavern called the Drooling Donkey." whispered Mel, the short, wiry shark morph to her left, as if they hadn't already discussed it. It was the piscine woman's way of settling her nerves, running through the details of their assignment like a mantra, not always aloud.

"I couldn't imagine a more savory-sounding place to have a drink at the end of a long day." replied the lanky equine who plodded along on her other side. His deep voice carried more than a hint of sarcasm.

"I don't know Toby," the shark mused, "A place with a name like that's got to have some damn good drinks."

"I'd rather take my chances with the lake water."

"You may as well." Emma interjected, glancing up again at the falls. "I'm sure it's what they brew with."

"Good point."

"Aw come on guys," said Mel with a gesture out to the lake, "It's really not that bad as long as you stay away from the city side. The water's clear and fresh from the falls, and it feels great on the gills."

"I'll be sure to keep that in mind the next time I find myself with a set of gills." the horse added dryly.

"Are you saying that there isn't some spell that gives you gills?"

Toby rolled his eyes. "I'm sure there is. I've just never had need of one. That's what we've got you for."

In response, Mel grinned broadly, showing rows of sharp, triangular teeth, and batted her eyelashes. "Whatever would you do without me?"

"Well, for starters, I'd clearly have to grow myself some gills. I guess I'd just wing it from there."

"Oh-ho!" Emma hissed, giving the equine a soft jab in the ribs, "Planning on replacing both of us then, are you?"

Toby grunted and rubbed his side, in spite of the fact that his silvery, argentum breastplate caught the brunt of her jab. "Sure, why not? I might as well become the Archmage while I'm at it. I'm sure your father would put in a good word for me with the council."

"Better be careful not to say that around him." the dragon chuckled, "He might end up taking you up on it, if just to give himself some free time."

Humming thoughtfully, Toby stroked his chin for a few pensive seconds before rolling his eyes. "I think I'd rather not. Too much bureaucracy and not enough excitement for my tastes."

Emma scoffed. "Don't you worry. He gets plenty of that. It's just that sometimes the he'd rather make his own than seek it out."

With a sweeping gesture, the lean horse morph indicated their surroundings. "And why would I do that when I've got you two to find it for me?"

Mel stifled a laugh, and Emma lazily shuffled her wings against her back. "You've got me there, I suppose. We're all probably too good at it for our own good."

"That must be why we work so well together." muttered Mel while she pushed a lock of short, dark blue hair out of her eyes, tucking it back behind her tapered ear.

Humming an affirmative, Emma followed the others as they moved off of the docks for a stretch, slipping through alleys between long, squat warehouses. "Speaking of... What are our predictions?"

Mel stopped at a corner, peaking around it and ensuring that there were no passers-by before answering. "Aphrodisiacs. It's always aphrodisiacs with these smugglers. Besides, what else would we have been sent out for if not some illegal fuck-juice? Ten crowns say we wind up finding crates of the stuff buried under sacks of flour or something."

"Taking the safe bet is unlike you, Mel." Toby murmured as he brought up the rear. "I think our information is too unreliable. My gold's on it being weapons. There have been an alarming number of skirmishes along the Valkish border, and they could fetch quite a price on the grey market from the wealthy and afraid."

Emma let out a thoughtful hum. "How farsighted of you. I guess I have to play the demon's advocate then. I'll say we find nothing but perfectly legal goods and we get shouted at for harassing a legitimate businessman."

The shark in the lead let out a low laugh as they turned the corner and took a more circuitous route to the water's edge, stopping shy of wetting their feet in the tiny waves that lapped at the gravelly shore beneath the docks. "It's like I can already feel your coin in my purse. The first round's on me when we're done."

"We'll just have to see, won't we?" said the dragoness, folding her sinewy arms beneath her ample chest and watching as Mel stuck a toe into the water.

She jerked it back out again in only a heartbeat. "Gah, fuck! That's cold!" the armored fish-woman hissed. "It's like the water's half-frozen!"

Heaving an enduring sigh, Toby approached. "Really now? I couldn't begin to imagine why. Just hold still for a second." The almost eight-foot horse morph had to stoop low under the planking above to get close to the water's edge next to the shark, and when he did he reached out, laying a hand on Mel's shoulder. He then lowered his already softened voice, breathing a string of smooth, sonorous syllables.

A warm, reddish glow pulsed briefly from the equine's palm, barely a candle's worth, and only for a moment. When it faded, he withdrew his hand and gave the dwarfed woman a fond smile. "There. Now give it a try."

Raising a hand to stifle a cough and definitely not to hide the way her cheeks flushed pink, Mel stuck her foot into the water, giving the mage a curt nod. "Much better. Thanks. Are you two going to be able to operate without me for a little bit?"

"I think we can manage." Emma assured her while the shark unclasped her vibrant, blue cape and stuffed it into her pack. Not counting the dragoness's sturdy scales, Mel wore the most armor of the three, an almost full-body suit of plate and chain to Toby's breastplate and chainmail shirt. Each piece was delicately articulated and allowed for the maximum degree of both flexibility and protection, and their wearer gave them each a quick check before handing her pack over to the horse.

Toby threw the strap over his shoulder as Mel waded out into the shallows carrying only her weapon, a double-ended spear longer than she was tall. "I'll screen the northern piers for suspicious activity before I head to the meeting. I should have time, and when I get there, I'll have your back. If you need me to dry out and save your sorry asses, you know your signals."

The two Lancers that remained on the shore nodded, and Emma cupped her hands around her draconic snout to carry her voice to the receding shark morph. "Good luck, and I'll make sure to keep Toby nice and safe for when we meet back up."

It looked like the equine was about to protest as he crunched his way back up to where she was standing, but he clearly thought better of it before Mel laughed. "You better. And Toby, you better do the same for her, because I know where you sleep."

He grinned at the nebulous threat as Mel sunk below the surface. There was a flash of an argentum-clad dorsal fin and a flick of a powerful, lobed tail, and then the shark was simply gone, vanished into the inky water. "Well you heard her." Emma quipped, turning away from the waterline, "Head back up onto the dock and check out the tavern. I'll see if I can find the building our smugglers are meeting in and set myself up before you and Mel get there."

"Got it." Toby said crisply. "I'll poke around, ask some questions. We'll see what kind of reaction the cape gets me before I head to the rendezvous."

She nodded and clapped him on the back as he strode past. "Alright, just try not to stir up too much trouble. We're here for the smugglers, not every low-life in the lower city."

He snapped her a lazy salute. "I'll keep that in mind. Be safe, Emma."

She returned the gesture with a fist against her chest before she watched him shrink away into the darkness, searching out a route back up onto the docks proper and leaving her standing alone on the pebbly shoreline. Giving her horselike partner a few moments to clear out, the dragoness then made her way back up between the darkened warehouses. Her allies might have struggled with the depth of the shadow that cloaked everything, but her sharp, amethyst eyes cut easily through the darkness while she found her way back onto one of the broader, more well-lit thoroughfares.

When she had walked for a few minutes deeper into the lower city, she stopped and loitered for a few minutes more in an alley between two shadowed storefronts. When enough time had passed, enough for her team to begin their own duties, she strolled out into the street, surprising the pair of guards that had been on their way to investigate the shadowy, inhuman silhouette that had been lurking in the shadows. After she exchanged greetings and an explanation with the liveried soldiers, she stepped back and threw her wings open, slamming them downward and leaping into the air from a cloud of dust and scattered gravel.

Finally! She had to bite down to stifle the exultant laugh that threatened to boil up from her toes as she catapulted herself further from the ground, up above the shingled rooftops that were laid out around the lake. Her broad wings sliced a jet black swath from the glittering sky as they carried her aloft, and the dark uniform she wore covered the majority of her polished bronze and blue scales. She would be nothing more than a vague silhouette to any curious soul that cast their eyes upward, and she cut short her rise when she soared up over the cliffs and even Southcliff proper, at least a thousand feet above the Rift.

She could see everything, and Emma scoured the lower city as she drifted in slow circles above it. Spots of brighter light marked people carrying lanterns going about their nightly business, guards and officials and citizens likely eager reach the warmth of their homes. Squares of faint illumination were candlelit windows, and on occasion a shaft of warm yellow would spill from an opened door before it was quickly shut against the cold.

The dragoness spied Toby strutting down the road that followed the shoreline, a shamelessly striking figure in blue and argentum that walked with purpose, but without haste. She marked his progress, noting the number of people, mostly dock workers stumbling home after spending their wages on various entertainments, that crossed his path. She watched them continue, daring one to do anything suspicious after seeing the Lancer, but none did. It was just as well, however. She had better things to do than waste time chasing a pickpocket or burglar through the streets.

When Toby reached what she presumed was the tavern and ducked inside to a burst of light and slurred song that Emma could almost hear even from a thousand feet up, she turned her attention to the docks surrounding it. These were the largest, the furthest from the falls, where the most of impressive of ships were moored. Some of the piers were even large enough to carry their own buildings, offices for dockmasters and staging areas for the loading and unloading of cargo. Any number of them could have played host to her quarry, and she angled her wings to drop herself into a languid, spiraling dive as she focused her attention on the dormant structures.

A glimmer in the window of a nearby building snagged her attention. She dropped a little faster, the winds hissing past her plastering her uniform to the hard contours of her powerful body. She was no owl, and it was quite the task to move through the air with any degree of stealth. The heavy beats of her wings would be fairly easy to pick out, so she had to be a little creative with her approach.

Cutting her descent, she glided the rest of the way, only moving her wings enough to reduce her speed an instant before she touched down on the roof of the building adjacent to the one that had caught her attention. Emma clung to the shingles and carefully folded her wings against her back once more as she maneuvered herself to the edge of her perch, trying to get a peek in through the window that was so faintly illuminated. She was certain she could hear voices, a pair of them, muffled and quiet.

Try as she might, she couldn't find an angle that granted her a view of the interior, and she let out a steadying breath as she dropped lightly from the roof to the dock below. Darting around the corner to stay out of sight of the shore, the dragoness, crouched low, crept across the intervening distance and pressed herself against the wall next to the window. The voices she had heard were clearer now, a man's and a woman's, and were clearly lowered into hushed whispers that carried sounds that she couldn't quite distinguish as words.

Clenching her jaw, she stuck her tapered, reptilian snout into the window and swept her eyes quickly across the room's interior. In the split second the action took, she felt a peculiar mix of concern and confusion before she realized what was going on and snapped her head back like something had struck her on the nose. Of course. She didn't know why she hadn't expected exactly that, and she bit back a pent-up sigh as she retreated and scaled her original landing place, leaving the nameless lovers to their chosen midnight activities while musing on their choice of location.

Back on the roof, Emma turned her back on the now very familiar sounds that were emanating behind her, and instead turned her attention to the docks further south. There were still places to check, and the dragoness crouched on the shingles for only a moment before she leapt to the top of an adjacent structure, extending her jump with a brief glide. She landed with practiced smoothness, the wood under her taking her weight with barely a creak, and sounds such as that were common enough on the waterfront. She scanned the darkness around her, looking and listening and smelling for anything out of the ordinary before continuing onward to the next nearest rooftop.

She carried on with this simple process until the night carried to her another out-of-the-ordinary sight, another illuminated window, but this time with the addition of the silhouette of someone who was clearly trying not to be noticed hurrying down the dock toward the structure that had caught her eye. Not wanting to be seen bounding across the intervening distance, she waited until the obscured figure disappeared into the suspect structure before springing from her perch on a stealthy approach.

She lighted on the roof with as much softness as she could force from her heavy frame and sunk into a low crouch, nearing the edge and sliding her head over the eave to get a better vantage. The breeze in her curling, ramlike horns somewhat obscured the muffled voices beneath her, but it wasn't enough to make them unintelligible. And what she heard more than piqued her interest.

"-told you not to show yourself until after the meeting!" hissed a voice, one that carried a rough, gravelly timbre that grated against Emma's senses.

"Yes Captain, but there's a problem." came the reply, deep, but hesitant. "There's a Lancer in the tavern, full uniform, and he's been asking questions."

There was a long pause before the "Captain" responded. "What sort of questions?"

"Dangerous ones."

Emma made herself take slow breaths during another pregnant pause. When the answer came, it came with a calm confidence that took the dragoness by surprise. "That's unfortunate, but as long as he's there asking questions, he's not doing any harm. However, we've got too much riding on this deal to take chances. Go, ready the ship to cast off as soon as I'm done here. And prepare to toss the cargo if anyone gives us trouble."

The conversation was terminated with a sharp, "Yes Captain", and Emma flattened herself against the roof as she heard someone exit the building. She presumed that it was the owner of the second voice that she then saw hurrying from the building and back toward the shore. Watching the shape recede, she warred against the instinct to give chase. She was needed where she was, where she could learn more before rushing blindly into the night on a fool's chase. Therefore, she just tracked the shadowed figure until it disappeared behind a row of buildings, knowing that she would get a chance to hunt him down later.

It was quiet for the next few moments, save for the sounds of the lake lapping against the pylons of the docks and the wind coursing across the rooftops. Emma heard the man inside her perch shift occasionally, and she suppressed the itch to crash through a door or window. She needed the details of this "meeting" before making any moves. Luckily, it seemed, she didn't have to wait very long, because after only a brief spell, she saw a small group of people conspicuously making their way down the pier toward her. Motionless and hardly daring to breathe, she watched them stride purposefully through the night. One was a good deal larger than the others, and she suspected from his build and his ears that he was a horse. The rest all possessed a more average stature, and they spread out as they approached the building.

The fox in the center walked up to the door while the others took up screening positions to either side. Emma heard the man inside move around at the fox's calm, quiet knock, and she tried even harder to press herself down onto the roof. If the horse was just a few inches taller, he could see her just by looking up. However, the sound of muffled conversation took everyone's attention, including her own.

"I've been expecting you." the building's original occupant said softly after opening the door and inviting the fox into the dimly lit room. "Let's get this done and get out of here before your posse draws too much attention."

Emma blinked in surprise when the fox let out a very feminine laugh. "Someone such as yourself should understand the importance of having a few loyal people at hand while skulking around in the middle of the night. But... I understand your concern. What do you have for me?"

"Twelve." said the man's voice dryly, "Six and six, and all healthy. Stock from Valkaria. It's all been moved to the proper ship."

The woman hummed an affirmative. "Good. We'll see what the lot fetches at market. Until then, however, your payment, half for this load, and the last half for the previous. There will be more as long as you continue to supply."

Emma heard the distinct clink of coins changing hands and the man continuing with a load of inane pleasantries, but she paid them no further mind because she spied another figure, alone, walking up the pier, this one making no attempt at stealth. She recognized the glint of silver from Toby's armor, and she wasn't the only one. "Boss," hissed one of the men on guard, "trouble."

They had no idea how much trouble they were really in, but the vixen that seemed to be in charge appeared to have an inkling, and growled a sharp curse. She poked her nose out of the door to catch a glimpse, and snarled, "Get out of the open you idiots! Before he sees you drooling on yourselves!"

The command had been unnecessary. Her men had been moving with practiced coordination as soon as they'd spotted the uniformed Lancer strutting noisily down the dock. They scattered, moving almost silently as they took cover around corners and behind stacks of crates. It barely took a few seconds for the pier to appear deserted apart from the muted candlelight flickering from the office's windows. This left its occupants the ones who needed to prepare for an unwelcome guest.

Emma heard the rustling of fabric and hushed, panicked whispers. "Hurry," the fox snapped, "Take off your clothes and scatter them around!"

"What the Hells are you doing?" Rasped the captain, "I... Oh. I see. Well, now I wish I paid for a bath before our meeting."

"Shut up and strip!" the woman growled, muffled by the sounds of a hurried commotion writhing the building. "All the way! Now get over here, against the wall. Put your hands on me. He might just barge in! No! Not there! If you so much as think about doing anything more I'll gut you and let the Lancer find your corpse!"

In spite of the frantic tone in her threat, the man just let out a coarse laugh. Toby was probably close enough to hear the muted ruckus, which might have been their plan. Emma dared not give away her ideal location trying to signal him, so she just watched him stroll up to the building, oblivious that he was now surrounded, not that numbers counted for much with either of them.

In spite of the very convincing sounds the building's occupants, the tall equine only hesitated for the briefest of moments before knocking boldly on the door. "Hello?" he called through the wood. "Silver Lance. I need to speak with you."

There was another sudden flurry of activity, and the Lancer was then dimly illuminated as the door was jerked open from within. The voice proclaimed it as the vixen that answered. Emma wished she could see what the fox had deigned to wear to the door, though Toby's expression said enough. "I... I'm sorry sir! Please don't tell my father! I wasn't kidnapped! I'll go home! I'll never see him again! Just please don't hurt him!"

Under this barrage of frantic pleas, Toby looked well and fully taken aback, and he blinked in confusion for several seconds before he could recover. "Miss, I'm not here because of any kidnapping, so please relax."

"But..." The woman continued, "why else would you be here? What do you want with us?"

Emma had to admit to herself that the fox was performing rather well under pressure. Toby crossed his arms and sighed, "I might not be here for you specifically. I'm just here investigating reports of a group of smugglers operating out of the Lower City. You and your... friend haven't happened to hear or see anything suspicious recently during your questionable midnight meetings, have you?"

"N-no sir..." murmured the vixen thoughtfully. "That's why we meet here in the first place. These docks are always deserted at this hour. It's the only place where we can be away from my father."

"Uh-huh." Toby said with dubious hesitation. The caution in the horse's tone made Emma feel tense. Something was going to give eventually, and it took all she had to remain silent, pressed against the roof and out of sight.

The horse let that pause hang for several seconds before continuing. "You said you were out against your father's wishes. I can't really speak to your choice of venue for your midnight revelry, but who could this man be to warrant going to such great lengths just for secrecy?"

"It's our families, sir." the man said, finally speaking up. His voice was strained. "If her father knew she was seeing me, he would see to it that she never leave her estate again. This is the only way we can see each other."

The Lancer let out another sigh, this one full of exasperated understanding. "Another petty dispute between nobles getting in the way of young love. You have my sympathies, Lord...?"

The man stammered, rushing to fill the blank left by the equine. "S-Seris. My father is Baron Seris."

"I see." Toby mused. "And what of you, Milady?"

"I... I am daughter to Lord Arkan." The fox's voice was worried and subdued.

"And now I see which of you has more sense." the Lancer said with a wry chuckle. "At least you, my young vixen, bothered to invent a member of Vandan nobility rather than give me the name of a baron that has no sons. Not from around here, I take it? Valkaria, perhaps? Your accent is telling. Next time, if you get a next time, go with the awestruck farm girl in the big city. Much more believable."

Before Toby had even finished the smug remark, there was a hoarse curse from inside the building. Emma saw movement on the pier, and she dug her claws into the wooden shingles beneath her, bracing herself. Finally. "Kill him!" barked the fox, and the suddenly embattled equine took a quick step back from the door, evading the glint of a knife swung from the open portal.

His abrupt dodge threw him into the open space between the buildings, and he laughed again, drawing the sword from his hip across his body with a clean, metallic ring. "Or..." he said, glancing around at the people that boiled from the shadows to surround him, "you could just come with me without any trouble."

No one else seemed to consider that an option, and none of them appeared to appreciate his swashbuckling attitude. The fox's entourage charged as a group, forcing Toby to sidestep a knife before swiping the flat of his blade across the assailant's back with a sharp thwap that left the canine squealing and stumbling out of the horse's long reach. In order to keep them all from coming at him at once, he then darted at his next nearest assailant, his sword leaving a long, clean gash where it struck with a flicker of steel.

With a yelp, the shadowed figure dropped the weapon he'd barely had the chance to pull and went careening backward as Toby delivered a swift kick to his chest, using the momentum to spin and put himself in a position that would force the rest of the thugs to come at him one or two at a time. "Drop your weapons and take a knee, gentlemen." the equine Lancer warned the people arrayed against him. "I'm pretty good, but I can't guarantee your lives. This thing's sharp and someone needs me to come home in one piece."

"You should have thought about that before sticking your nose where it's not wanted." a familiar voice hissed. It was the fox, who took a quick step out of the office--very obviously nude and unabashedly so--and leveled a small hand crossbow at Toby's head.

Emma tensed and moved before her senses could finish telling her what was wrong. Suddenly, an intense, acrid odor burned at her nostrils. It turned her blood to ice, and frantic adrenaline spend her movements as she threw herself off of the roof, claws outstretched, and slammed the weight of her body into the vixen's back just as she squeezed the release lever.

The poisoned bolt went wide, thudding into the side of another squat structure. Even caught off guard, the fox struggled valiantly, wriggling like a snake as the dragon fought to get a grip, but it wasn't enough to save her. With fingers like bands of steel, Emma crushed a delicate wrist in her grip and jerked upward, twisting the vixen's arm up behind her back. With a startled, pained squeal, her quarry stilled, doing little else but grunting hoarse curses under her breath.

Apart from unveiled threats against her life, her body, and her unborn children, everything seemed to stop. Toby, now that backup had well and truly arrived, heaved a relieved sigh. The half-dozen armed men hesitated, glancing from the trapped fox, to each other, and then to the two Lancers. Eventually, they cautiously lowered their weapons.

At least until the man who had been in the building with the fox leapt out of the shadowed doorway and swung something dark and heavy down at the dragoness. With a snarl, she twisted, accepting the blow on her shoulder and rolling with the impact. The movement whipped her tail around, and she used it to sweep his legs from under him. He fell with almost comical slowness an instant before her body jerked like a spring and her foot met his bare sternum with a meaty crack.

Ribcage crumpled, he flew back into the room with a resounding crash and she twisted, rolling to her feet, hauling the vixen up with her, and throwing the slight woman's body against the nearby wall. "So much as breathe wrong," she growled menacingly, "and I'll prove that you don't need your arms to be questioned by the tribunal!" Emma then tightened her grip and twisted the fox's limbs in an added, silent threat.

For several tense seconds, the only sound was that of heavy breathing and small waves lapping against the shoreline. Eventually though, Toby let out a breath that it sounded like he had been holding. "Thanks for the timely intervention, Emma, although I had everything under control."

She shot him a sidelong glance. "I'm sure. I just didn't want to risk having to drag you all the way back to the Sanctum to save you from whatever was smeared on that dart."

The vixen she had trapped between her and the wall opened her mouth, perhaps to protest, but thought better of it when Emma gave her wrists a squeeze of warning. With the rest of them fairly pacified, Toby sheathed his sword and lined them up, binding their hands behind them with bands of enchanted steel. As soon as she was able to turn the fox over, she stalked into the room where the meeting had taken place and dragged out her unlucky attacker by a leg.

He was wheezing and clutching at his ruined chest, and she growled at herself as she rolled him over onto his side so he wouldn't choke on the blood he was coughing onto the planking. "I don't know how much this one's going to be able to tell us any time soon. Sounds like a lung. I didn't mean to hit him so hard."

"That's what he gets for surprising you..." Toby consoled her as he finished securing the prisoners they would have to see to the nearest guards. "Give me a minute. I'll make sure he makes it to tell us everything."

He plodded over, kneeling next to the grievously injured man and laying a hand gingerly over the crater she'd put in his torso. After a string of sonorous, complex words, he seemed less pale and on the verge of death, and Emma relaxed, instead directing her attention to the others lined up on the wall. "You." she rumbled dangerously, gesturing at the fox. "Where's the cargo, which ship is it? And what are you people moving that you're so desperate to keep secret?"

The vixen, having been forced to her knees, having had her wrists bound behind her, and sitting there naked, shivering in the biting air, glared up at Emma with an expression that nearly glowed with acidic disdain. She spat at the dragoness's feet and hissed in a tone that dripped venom, "Fuck yourself, you pompous whore!"

Toby glanced over his shoulder and cocked an eyebrow at her. "Looks like you've made yourself a new friend, Emma."

She crossed her arms sniffed in feigned hurt. "I don't know... I feel like friends would rather join in than just sit there and watch me have fun all by myself."

"Hey, some people like to spectate. I'm sure you could accommodate."

"I guess..." she sighed, hiding a smile at the look of bewilderment that crept across the fox's face. "But I won't be able to do anything as long as we're tied up here."

"Such is the way of things." the lanky equine mused as he rose up to stand next to her, staring down at their prisoners.

"But we can try harder than that." Emma continued, sliding her gaze down the line of men to the one at the end of the row, a stout canine whose eyes shied away from hers. "What about you? Are you some zealot who's going to curse me all the way to the Sanctum? Or are you just here for a pocketful of coin and the promise of more? Because trust me, no amount of gold is going to get you out of going where you're headed. On the other hand, if you help me out, I'd be much more inclined to put in a good word for you with the tribunal."

He seemed most hesitant to meet her gaze, but he glanced up for a heartbeat, enough for her to see the conflict behind his eyes. He was warring with fear and hopelessness, maybe even regret. Before he could so much as open his mouth, however, the fox spoke up. "Breathe one word and tonight will be your last."

Emma sorely wanted to toss the fox off the dock. Surely a dip in the icy water would quench a little of that defiant fire. Instead, she just watched as the frightened young man's gaze flicked from her to the woman he seemed to fear more than the dragon standing in front of him. She nearly laughed when she saw him crack, making the right choice. His shoulders slumped, his head drooped, and he steadied himself with a deep breath. "They've got-"

In an instant everything stopped. From farther north along the docks came a loud, sharp crack, as of a small clap of thunder. The worrisome noise pulled everyone's attention to the side, turning heads in unison. There in the distance a pale, flickering light rose up into the sky, a blatant beacon demanding the attention of everyone with a set of working eyes. "Mel!" snapped the dragoness.

"Go help her," Toby barked, "I'll worry about the prisoners! Go!"

She had been moving before the horse had even opened his mouth. Her talons peeled strips of wood from the dock as she sprinted toward the edge and hurled herself into the air. Despite her brashness, Mel wasn't one to get herself into trouble often, and any signal was likely a dire emergency. With this thought burning in the front of her mind, Emma streaked low over the water and squat buildings and toward the slowly fading light like a bronze missile.

It seemed like only a heartbeat later she caught a flash of silver in the pallid light and angled herself sharply over the roof of a long warehouse and toward the shore. Emma could just hear the clash of steel over the whistling of wind through her horns, and her heart crawled its way into her throat when she saw her partner standing a few yards out on a narrow pier surrounded by armed fighters.

She could smell the harsh tang of blood from all the way down the pier as she sped along it toward the embattled lancer. At the chance of even a drop of it being Mel's, seething fury burned up her spine. It boiled in her chest, and she let out a coarse, rumbling roar while closing the distance with heavy beats of her inky black wings. It was enough to catch several of the approaching combatants off guard, and the silver-clad shark was quick to take advantage of the brief distraction by singling out the nearest of her adversaries and shoving the end of her spear into his gut.

Mel then pulled back with a savage jerk, and he toppled over, adding to the two others that she already had writhing on the dock. Given an opening, the still outnumbered shark took it and darted toward the approaching dragoness. "About fucking time!"

Emma counted three still standing, and watched as two more leapt onto the dock from a boxy cargo ship moored alongside it. The newcomers pulled short, utilitarian blades and charged after the retreating shark, but wisely hesitated at the sight of so many of their compatriots bleeding on the ground. The other three, perhaps blinded by bloodlust or determined to make Mel pay for the wounds they had sustained, continued on heedless of the doom that swept down on them.

The dragoness dipped low, passing just over Mel's head with a whoosh and angling herself straight toward the foremost of her new adversaries with claws outstretched. He didn't see her until she was less than a heartbeat from colliding with him. His eyes shot open as they latched onto her, and he dug in his heels in an effort to turn himself around. It was far too late, however, and she smashed into him with all of her terrible momentum. He left his feet and was slammed down onto his back as their tangled forms skidded down the pier.

Unlike her target, she had been ready for her landing, and she rolled with the force of her impact, springing off of his crumpled body and to her feet in a single deft motion. Furious sparks crackled between her bared teeth, and she took a calming breath as she stood there, letting them see her and decide for themselves what their next actions would be. Mel continued down the pier, flashing a brief hand signal before diving into the water, and she straightened her back, folded her wings close, and crossed her arms. "Drop your toys. Your captain and your buyer are already in custody, so there really wouldn't be any point to me breaking all of your bones."

She really didn't know if the men around her were with the group she'd already encountered, but she didn't have to. Their reactions were more than enough to fill in all of the blanks in her comprehension. The two that had jumped off of the ship moored along the dock each cursed a violent oath and retreated, throwing themselves back onto their boat, and the others, the two trapped between the end of the pier and the dragoness, gripped their little swords all the more tightly. She sighed. "Is that going to be a no, then?"

One was faster than his comrade, but that didn't work out in his favor. He attacked her first, alone, and for a time, he was the only one within her reach. He swung wildly at her, and she backpedaled to avoid it. He swung again, and this time she lashed out, grabbing his wrist and twisting. His face when white, obvious even in the darkness, as the delicate bones folded with wet pops. He dropped his blade, and grunted as she thrust her flat palm against his chest. It was more a shove than a strike, and she simply pushed him back, throwing him bodily into his ally.

They both crumpled to the ground, one atop the other, and she darted over, landing a lazy kick against the one who looked the most conscious. Reaching down into her pack to retrieve her enchanted manacles, she bound them up, letting the one with the broken arm whine and squirm as she knelt over her quarry. Seconds later, her head snapped up at the sound of a loud splash, one that was quickly followed by another.

Emma saw movement on the deck of the nearby ship, and she hissed angrily. They were dumping their cargo! With the assistance of a flap of her wings, she leaped aboard, demanding surrender with every ounce of her authority, but was only welcomed by several shadowy figures that rushed up from below decks. One sliced a small rent in the side of her shirt as his short, curved blade bounced from her scales, and another almost managed to strike her head with a stout, iron-bound club. Behind them, she saw a pair tossing a sizable crate overboard and rush to get another.

The dragoness read a worrisome mixture of fear and desperation in her adversaries' eyes, and she clenched her fists. They were either going to quickly break and run, or they were going to struggle like cornered rats and fight her all the way. "Enough," she snarled, catching the cudgel on her forearm, "This is pointless!"

They were either unwilling or unable to listen to reason however, because the heavy club fell once more. This time she caught the wrist of the arm that wielded it and pulled. He jerked forward, and she slid past him, practically trading places with him. On the way, she kept his arm extended, braced her free hand against his elbow, and casually folded it backwards onto itself. He screamed and collapsed, dropping his weapon, clutching at his maimed arm, and freeing her to focus on his knife-wielding comrade.

She could see what little light there was glinting off of his huge, shocked eyes, and he wisely decided to let his blade clatter to the deck. She huffed, acknowledged his surrender, and struck him in the face with a quick jab. He grunted as his head snapped back, and his eyes rolled listlessly in their sockets as he crumpled next to his whimpering friend. Stepping over his limp body, the dragoness then rushed at the other two she knew of, who had just begun the process of tossing another crate overboard.

Just as they were hoisting it over the side of the ship, she shouldered her way between them and grabbed it, sinking her claws into the wood. "Whatcha got here?" grunted the dragon as she swung the surprisingly heavy object around, ripping it from their hands and slamming it into the chest of one of the surprised crewmen. Pivoting on the ball of her foot, she let the crate's momentum finish her spin, and with a lazy flick of her powerful tail she shoved the one behind her aside and over the railing.

He squealed and hit the frigid water with a splash, and she dropped the crate atop his friend as she peered overboard and into the murk. When the sodden smuggler surfaced, spluttering and churning the lake with flailing arms, she grinned. "Relax!" she called down to him. "Someone will fish you out after you've taken a minute to cool off!"

It turned out to be less than a minute, because barely a second after she finished her chuckle, Mel's silver-clad form bobbed above the surface. The shark shot a smirk up at the dragoness and took hold of the floundering sailor, dragging him through the water toward the pier. "I've got most of the crates they tossed corralled up by the bow, if you want to go get them out of the lake. It'd be a shame for a little water damage to ruin their cargo."

Emma nodded and turned, grabbing two of the smugglers by the ankle and looping her tail around the other's throat. She dragged them across the deck and tossed them roughly, one-by-one, onto the pier. Following them, she then bound and lined them up next to their little single-mast vessel, each in varying states of health and consciousness. None of them were going to be going anywhere anytime soon, so she left them and trotted to the prow of the ship, where Mel, her quarry, and several crates were bobbing in the water.

Kneeling, she reached down and hauled up the trembling sailor followed by crate after crate after crate, until there was a line of those sitting on the dock as well. The shark dragged herself up onto the pier in short order, and immediately began stripping the shivering man, grumbling something about some "heavy bastard" before dragging him over to join his fellows. Emma let her, instead hopping back aboard the ship and ducking through a squat door in search of any stragglers that might have had the good sense to hide from her.

Aside from reeking of mildew and people who spend far too long cooped up with one another, the underquarters of the ship seemed fairly mundane. Cargo was stacked up and around rows of cramped bunks, and everything looked and felt about as damp as she expected. With a sharp exhale to clear her sinuses of the unpleasant odor, she climbed her way back out into the open air and rejoined Mel on the pier. The shark was leaning lightly on her spear and looking over their prisoners with a critical eye.

"You know, Em," the piscine woman muttered, "they were fighting awfully hard over a few crates. Makes you wonder what might be in them that's so important."

"Quite." replied the dragoness. "Let's find out what they were so eager to kill you over, hmm? Besides, it's getting late."

As they sauntered over to the nearest squat, square container, Mel elbowed her in the ribs. "Aww, are these mean smugglers keeping you from your beauty sleep?"

"Yeah, actually." she retorted. "You should try it some time. It does wonders."

The shark jammed the tip of her spear under a board and started to pry it off. "But why would I do that when there are so many more fun things I could be doing in my bed?"

With a sigh, she pushed the skinny woman aside and buried her claws into the slick surface. With the squeak of nails pulling free of wet, swollen wood, she ripped a board from the crate and threw it aside. When she saw what the crate contained, her wry counter withered in her throat."

Huffing indignantly at being shouldered away, Mel squeezed up beside her and stole a glance, stiffening at the sight. "Dripping Ichor... Emma!"

The dragoness was already moving to the next crate. As Mel threw herself into working the rest of the container's top off, Emma sank her fingertips into the wood in front of her, very nearly tearing the stout, wooden box apart in her haste to see it open. The thing had been nailed shut. It was clearly not meant to be opened until it reached its destination, which only further put ice through her veins when she reached in and pulled out of the cramped container the limp figure of a young man.

She carried him away from the water and laid him out, kneeling over him and putting her head down to his chest, praying. His heart still beat, but it was weak and slow, and while he breathed, it was shallow and ragged. His skin was wet and cold, likely a result of his dip, and she hissed a sharp curse as she turned to her partner. "Mel, we need a fire. Now."

Looking up from her crate, Mel's expression gradually shifted from one of utter disbelief to a tight-lipped mask of determination. "Y-yeah. Right. Toss me your pack and stack up some of this wood. Hurry."

Shrugging her satchel off of her shoulder, she passed it to the shark and moved to the next crate in line. Mel caught it and rummaged through the dragoness's gear, eventually pulling from it a stoppered vial and dropping to her knees next to the loose pile of splintered wood Emma was quickly creating. Biting the cork from the little flask, she poured the contents onto the stack of soaked kindling and pulled a knife from her belt, using it to strike a spark into it.

The wood would never have taken a flame as it was, but the oily concoction ignited hungrily, burning with a violent, whitish-yellow glow. Emma felt the heat of it on her scales, and the wood that was wreathed in that harsh light hissed and popped until it, too caught light. She piled more and more wood onto the nascent inferno until tongues of angry, red flame leapt high into the air. Carefully, as tenderly as she could, she arranged the still forms near the fire, hoping beyond hope that the heat would protect them from the effects of the bone-chilling cold that stubbornly clung to them.

But there were so many. Ten crates sat on the pier, and she ripped each open only to find out it had been serving as a prison cell for some frail-looking youth. She was cradling the weight of a skinny woman, a raccoon whose fur was doing a damnable job of holding rigid water to her skin, when she heard voices and saw lanterns bobbing down the road that ran parallel to the shore. A wave of relief washed over her when she recognized Toby's silhouette. The horse was running, followed closely by a half-dozen of the city guard.

When he finally reached them, he hissed a sharp oath under his breath as he took in the grim scene. "Gods' Blood... What happened?"

"They were dumping them!" Mel snapped in a venomous bark. "These shit-bags were just tossing them into the water like trash!"

Emma didn't have time to let the shark vent. As she knelt down, depositing the still, young woman within the reach of the fire's comforting warmth, she beckoned Toby over. "Most of them went into the water before I got here. They're weak and cold, and all of them are catatonic. I don't think the temperature's got much to do with it, though."

The guardsmen that had Toby had picked up spread out, eyeing the lined-up prisoners with looks of open disdain as the horse plodded over and crouched next to the unconscious raccoon. With a murmured phrase, her equine partner waved his hand over the frail figure, and Emma felt his magic prickle against her sales as he sensed something only he could see. "Yes," he agreed after a moment spent contemplating, "This one, at least, has been drugged. It's hard to tell with what."

"Is it reversible? Will they be alright?"

Toby chewed anxiously on his lips as he focused on his spell. "I... I think so, but the effect's subtle. It's going to take me a while to counteract, even longer for it to wear off on its own. Ranna will be able to do more to help them than I could."

She nodded and stood. Something was still wrong. Emma could feel it in her gut as a roiling discontent that went deeper than her disgust. She walked down the line of ruined crates, searching them for anything of note, just to uncover nothing. Mel was digging into the final container with her spear, eventually prying it open and pulling the still frame of another young man, clothed in rags. She watched the shark carry him over, laying him down near the fire for Toby to examine.

It hit her like a giant-thrown boulder. "Gods' Blood!"

Toby was too focused to react to her tone, but Mel's head snapped up like the dragoness had reached over and slapped her. "What?!"

"There are ten!" she barked. "There's supposed to be a dozen! He said they had twelve!" Before she finished the last word, she'd propelled herself onto the moored ship with a flap of her wings and dove down into its bowels. She'd find them, especially with Mel's help, as the shark joined her in a heartbeat, swearing a host of colorful oaths the entire way. With a little context, she could see where the cargo had been stowed, see the conspicuously empty space where the crates had been before they'd been dumped, and she darted over, her keen eyes slicing through the darkness as Mel fumbled in the shadow.

The relief she felt when she saw the pair of familiarly unassuming crates sitting quietly against the side of the ship was explosive, and a flurry of sparks danced across the brazen scales of her snout as she sighed and ripped one open. The figure within was a fox with peculiar, white fur, and she reached in and gently scooped up the petite woman as she called for assistance. "Mel."

Her partner was at her side in a heartbeat, and accepted the weight of the unconscious woman as Emma moved to the final box. Her claws made short work of the wood, and she couldn't suppress the terse, "Thank the Gods..." that escaped her at the sight of the final comatose prisoner to be accounted for, another vixen with oddly snowy fur, perhaps even the sister of the first.

Emma clutched the little fox to her chest as if she was made of glass, and Mel followed her up and out of the ship. Toby had extinguished their impromptu bonfire, likely to keep it from burning through the pier, but the horse had replaced with an equally warm source of light that floated several feet above the scorched planks, this one a coruscating mass of flickering green flames. It lit everything with an odd, alien glow, but she was just as grateful for its heat as she approached and gingerly laid her burden near it.

The shark mirrored the motion, then raked a hand through her damp hair and shook her head. "Gods' Blood, what if I'd missed one they dumped?"

"You didn't." Emma assured her, doing a quick, mental count in the process. They were all there. Six men and six women of varying shapes and sizes were splayed out across the dock, some nude, some dressed in tattered rags, all of them still as the grave, or at least nearly so. To reassure herself, she laid her palm on the vixen's belly, feeling it move ever so slightly, so, so slowly with each tiny breath the torpid woman took. The dragoness wished she would wake up, if just long enough for her to say that everything was going to be alright, that she was safe.

Mel didn't seem comforted by her assurance, and her partner's finned tail swished anxiously through the air. "This is so fucked up. How greedy do you have to be to drug someone and stuff them in a box?"

Now that worry and adrenaline were beginning to drain away, a hot mass of indignant anger began to simmer in her gut, and she pushed herself to her feet, muttering a tight-lipped, "That's a good question." Emma turned and stalked up the dock to where the prisoners were lined up, some still unconscious and some whimpering over broken bones. She picked out the healthiest looking one, remembering him as one of the two that had been busy throwing crates overboard, and stood in front of him, glaring down the length of her draconic snout.

He was begging before she could say a word. "Please! I didn't know! No one told us what was in the crates! How could we-"

"Dripping Ichor, shut up!" barked the man sitting, shackled, next to him. "Have a little dignity..." This one was a burly canine with speckled grey fur and a long, shallow gash along his upper arm, likely from Mel's spear.

Emma turned her attention to him and scowled. "Better late than never, I suppose. But I would have suggested having a little dignity when you were trying to throw people to their deaths, because that doesn't seem very dignified to me."

The ice in her voice didn't seem to faze him. "Don't preach at me from your high horse!" spat the grizzled dog. "Besides, he's right. The captain didn't tell us what was in the crates. Logistics... is the service we provide to our clients."

"Oh, I see..." she mused, tapping a taloned toe on the planks underfoot, "Point A to point B with no questions asked, is that it?"

He grinned like she was a child just beginning to grasp the obvious. "Precisely."

Disdain twisted her expression into a sickened scowl. "It's so sad that you think any of that will save you. Do you know the punishment for trafficking in or transporting slaves?"

His smug grin faltered, and she gave him a sage nod. "I suppose so then. Well, whenever you get to where you're going, just know that I hope you suffer. I hope you suffer a thousand times more than all of these people have suffered. Maybe you'll learn a little empathy before Mortis passes down her judgement." She then left him there with a mask of grim resignation stretched over his face. Restrained anger simmered in her gut, but she felt more disgusted than anything, and she sighed as she returned to her partners.

"Any insights into the mind of a slaver?" Mel wondered aloud.

A disappointed, "No..." escaped her chest. "Either stupidity, greed, or willful ignorance can lead people to make some very poor choices. He should be glad that none of his prisoners were harmed. I might not have been so cordial with my questions."

Toby chuckled, and the shark shrugged placidly. "I'd have paid good silver to watch that. Too bad, too, because I'm going to be rolling in it soon."

Emma's scaled eye ridge quirked quizzically upward. "Oh?"

With a theatrical flourish, Mel lifted a small, glass vial up between them and swirled the murky, pink liquid within it. "Guess what else they were trying to sneak through Southcliff."

Throwing her head back, the dragoness groaned loudly. "Really?! Gods' Blood, slaves and aphrodisiacs?!"

Mel's smile was supremely pleased. "Yep. I stumbled into a box full of these while we were digging. I'm willing to bet the guard'll turn up more when they turn that ship inside-out."

Toby stood from the last of the unconscious forms and strolled over. "They're all going to be fine, but we should probably get them to a healer with some real skill before we get too busy celebrating our success."

Acknowledging him with a nod, Emma stretched out her wings and tested them against the air. "Yeah. I'll head back to the Sanctum and get a team down here to help move them somewhere a little more comfortable."

Mel agreed, and after a casual salute to her partners the dragoness trotted down the pier to build up a little speed before launching herself into the air and ascending into the night with the pounding of heavy wingbeats. She grinned viciously as air filled the inky membranes. The cold was bracing, and helped her put the lingering thrill of combat and her restrained anger at the injustice she'd witnessed behind her. As she soared up and over the cliffs and the city proper, she angled herself toward the huge, hilltop annulus of the Sanctum Arcanum, began her descent, and let out a sigh that was taken away by the winds.