It was the middle of the night in Poirt Kar.
Few lights shone at this time of night, paga dens and brothels, and the occasional patrol with torches. This suited a prowler just fine, as he skulked from alleyway to alleyway, going in the general direction of the shoreline where there was a shipwreck he'd heard about. It was probably ransacked by everyone and their grandmothers by now but one never knew until they looked for themselves. It didn't take too long to find once the prowler made it to the shore, with the docks one direction, it had to be in the other, it was just a matter of walking and patience. Upon arrival it did look as if it were picked over pretty well. Shame he couldn't have brought any large tools like a saw, or a big hammer, or a mattock, but even if he could it would have been a lot of noise which would attract attention.
It was also a shame he didn't bring any light, either. It was just as well, he thought he'd probably get hurt or something, perhaps drop the light in the water, or maybe in extreme circumstances, somehow light the waterlogged wreck on fire. He could tell it wasn't a Karian ship by several clues though. One big one was that if it were Karian it'd've been dragged towards the city or dismantled for parts. There'd also be people here to guard the thing from people like him, not to mention ship designs and decorations. Tyros perhaps? Cosian? He briefly wished there was more light then shook his head, light was bad for now. Best to stay hidden, and the things that needed doing tonight weren't finished.
He walked along the shore heading towards the docks, pausing along the way to pick up some long thin poles and some netting, improvising a background just in case someone asked hi why he was out at this time of night. Fishing, why not? He heard activity at the docks when he got close enough, he should have expected something, commerce doesn't stop just because the sun goes past the horizon. He waded into the water and climbed up one of the ladders where smaller boats can tie up and carried his small burden, walking as if he had every right to be there, which usually works in a crowd. If you walk unafraid and purposefully, usually with a package or item that seems to fit the area, you tend to not get bothered unless you do something foolish. The "fisherman" moved out of the way of a train of thralls being led into the city, probably a work crew. No one wanted to see a bunch of thralls sweating all over the place and glowering at people so perhaps the work was done at night? He certainly got looks from both slave and free, both silently wishing they were fishing instead of working. And in the case of the thralls, wishing they were free as well.
After they went past he went along the main walkway looking for a certain ship, and eventually found it, this one flying the flag of the city of Bazi. It took some time and talking to, and a soft jingle of coins to get a man of rank aboard the ship to come talk to him, and after a few minutes an agreement was made to make a side trip to the south and drop something off before heading onwards with their business. The bundle of fishing gear gets dropped on the ground after some more coins are given, and after a deft slight of hand movement it gets picked up again gets handed over. The sailor asks if this is a joke, and gets assured that it isn't, and is to be delivered just like that, and handed the extra coins, and told him to tell the person he was giving it to that this was the source of all his income to date, and to stop asking questions whether he had a job or not. The sailor shrugged and left, putting the stuff in the hold with other cargo. It was free money as far as he was concerned.
The "fisherman" walked away from the ship and went back into the city, pausing in sight of a certain house, then passing the street by, and leaving the city. The wreck would be another day. This needed looking into. Trouble was coming. He would have to choose a side, or be his own side, eventually. Maybe people would pick him as a side? His side wouldn't be here if bad things went down, he wasn't much to count on in times of trouble. He passed a number of wagons, a few of them pretty big, one had a man sitting on some steps under a sort of eave, watching two sleen pups play, not looking too pleased at them. The men locked eyes, and the man on the steps nodded and silver glinted in the moonlight as it flew and was caught. The catcher went back into the city; it was time for a drink, possibly at one of those paga dens he passed along the way.
The man on the steps put the sleen pups back in their cages and went inside, undressed and got into bed with what he thought was an attractive woman. Shame she slept clothed. He could still look though. At least she didn't sleep armed. It might be a good night after all.
