The excuse that Basil Voidsailor made when he needed to meet with James Seaskimmer in private, was that he was visiting one of Erlenberg’s Houses of Light. In Erisdale and other places on the continent of Ravorna, they were called “Recreation Halls,” or “Courts of Satisfaction.”

His stuffy older brother Oliver would sigh and wave him off. Basil’s wife, Li would shrug and go back to her gossiping and needlework. She also kept her own lover on the side. It was better for them both that way. They did care for each other, and she knew of his plans, but they’d both also known for some time that neither of them were each other’s type.

Ravorna’s pleasure houses weren’t simply for activities in the bedchambers, though. In Erlenberg, they were more a combination of lavish restaurant, gambling den, dance hall and duelling hall. You start with a nice dinner before going for a dance, perhaps meeting someone interesting who you might ask to join the night. Or you could roll a few balls into the spinning circle and try your luck, before getting frustrated and asking for a sword, or magic duel to resolve a dispute, or just to work out that frustration.

The Houses of Satisfaction were essentially a one-stop for all your recreational needs, but in Basil’s case, he was more interested in how they could also serve as a discrete meeting place.

After all, there was nothing like having a discussion in plain sight where everybody was too drunk, or interested in each other, to actually overhear you.

James Seaskimmer, the patriarch of the Seaskimmer family, stood up and shook Basil’s hand before they both sat down. “You’re early.”

“Considering things I’m a little more nervous than usual,” grunted Basil. “Did you know the Windstorms and Windwhistlers were working together?”

The human-orc’s gaze wandered for an instant, before he met Basil’s eyes. “From what I heard, this wasn’t actually the case. Rachel and Eleanor only joined forces recently. It was that new grandchild of Eleanor’s, Frances, as well as Rachel’s son, Robert, that seemed to have picked up a lead. They were the ones who foiled our attempt. We can only be glad that those saboteurs didn’t know who their employer was.” James crossed his arms. “Where is Aiva, if that is her name.”

“If there is one thing I expect her to be, is on time,” said Basil, smirking slightly.

A waitress in a corset that left very little to the imagination bent down and set a pair of glasses on the table.

“Compliments of the lady of room thirteen,” she said.

James and Basil exchanged a look, downed the glasses and left to find room thirteen.

‘Aiva’ if that was her name arrested James and Basil’s attention the moment they entered the room, more because the rather voluptuous half-orc, half-troll woman was wearing… nothing much.

“Shut the door boys. We have business,” said Aiva, her voice husky, words rolling off the tongue.

“Put something on, Aiva,” James said, arching an eyebrow as Basil shut the door.

“What. Like what you see?” she asked.

“Aiva, we don’t have time to play games,” Basil hissed.

“Oh? We don’t have time for games? Oh so that’s how you see this. You think exposing Alavaria’s involvement for all to see, failing to assassinate the Windwhistlers, and forcing them to unite with their mortal enemies as a more productive use of your time?”

Basil swallowed, whilst James stiffened almost imperceptibly as Aiva stood up and stalked to the males. Only to reach right between them and take her cloak hanging on the doorhook, and putting it on with a swirl.

“But that’s fine. That’s fiiine.” She sat down on the bed and crossed her legs, letting her bare legs show. “You’ll be glad to know the deal is still on, but we have changed the terms slightly.”

“How?” James asked, in a low, dangerous tone.

“Oh the Seaskimmers will still be given pre-eminence once we conquer Erlenberg and you’ll be protected from any… stupidly loyal family members. You Basil, your immediate family is still going to be spared and we’ll do our best to protect Erlenberg’s public institutions. We like the cut of the Great Library too.” Aiva pointed her perfectly manicured fingernail at the two. “But given your inability to uphold your end of things, we have a task for you.”

Jeffrey and Basil glanced at one another before nodding. When they heard the task however, their eyes widened in shock.

Aiva meanwhile, shrugged at their expressions, her almost fox-like red tail wagging, slowly.

“It’s not that hard. The final match of the tournament will provide you enough cover.And either way, provided you don’t do something stupid, we’ll get you out if something bad happens.”

“You and what army?” Basil asked, but his eyes were already narrowed in thought. “We can manage this, but it can go wrong.”

“As you know, I am a woman of many, many skills and talents,” she said, smiling almost nostalgically. “Don’t worry your pretty little heads.”

“Understood. We’ll update you with the details. Same dead drop?” James asked.

“Aw, but don’t you want to stay longer? Enjoy my company?” Aiva leaned forward and spread her cloak aside slightly, but Basil was already turning on his heels and was out of the room.

James on the other hand, sighed and gave a slow nod. “Always a pleasure, Aiva. If that is your real name.”

“It is real enough for my purposes. And not even you too, James?”

The half-orc’s lips thinned as he seemed to give Aiva a considering glance.

“Not today, Aiva. Thank you.” With that he left.

As James exited, he found Basil waiting for him, frowning. “Did you seriously consider it?”

“Yes, she is a beautiful woman and very talented. But I declined for the same reason you did I believe,” said James coolly. The pair continued to walk down back toward the bar of the restaurant.

“Because she’s crazy. Good, but crazy,” said Basil.

James arched an eyebrow. “While I see why you think that, and I do think she’s eccentric, she’s not mad, or unstable.”

“Why not then? I mean you… we certainly enjoyed ourselves last time?” said Basil.

The half-orc stopped walking and stared at Basil, “Did you not realize she could have killed you that night? She’s all muscle. That and she’s a mage. The Kingdom of Alavari don’t just send anybody to do their espionage work.”

“Oh.” Basil shivered. “Do you think we can pull it off?” he asked, switching topics.

James nodded. “Yes, but we’ll have to be careful.”

City Council Chambers…

Eleanor leaned back in her seat in the Erlenberg’s City Council chamber and took a deep breath. The chamber was made up of circles of chairs that slowly expanded and were set higher, kind of like a smaller colosseum. As the Windwhistlers had one of the permanent seats in the city council, her seat was in the front two rows, where the permanent seats were.

She was actually seated directly across from Rachel Windstorm because they’d previously gotten into too many shouting matches before. Now, though, they were ironically on the same side.

Oddly enough there was less arguing and hawing than usual as the City Council proceeded down their agenda. Then again, given all the proposals were security-related and a reaction to the sabotage attempts on the stadium that wasn’t surprising.

The Military Expansion bill that Oscar had been worried about passed unanimously once Eleanor threw her weight behind it. Indeed, the Erlenberg had only seven permanent seats out of the total of fifteen, five of them occupied by the founding families, one of them by the Windwhistlers and a sixth by the Lovestrike family. However, since those families that were elected to the non-permanent seats could only hold office for two years, and needed to take a five year gap before they could hold office again, they relied on those that held onto the permanent seats to follow through with legislation.

Oscar, the current Chairperson of the City Council, stood up. “Alright, with the agenda items over, are there any other proposals that we want to make before we end the session?”

Eleanor glanced at Rachel. Now that she thought about it, the Windstorm troll was actually distantly related to her. Rachel, having caught Eleanor’s glance, nodded.

Taking a deep breath, Eleanor a deep breath raised her hand.

“Eleanor, what would you like to propose?”

I can’t believe I’m doing this. Eleanor sighed and set herself against the table. “I and representative Rachel Windstorm motion to discuss the topic of the Winter Tournament and whether we should delay or cancel it.”

In the small chamber, the astonished gasps, and other various reactions of the other council members were far too audible.

“Wait, Eleanor, why are you proposing this?” Oscar asked.

“She and I are proposing this. As to why, I think the reason is rather obvious,” said Rachel, grimacing, though that seemed more at the wide-eyed stares of the other representatives.

“The sabotages, a conspiracy we still haven’t found the root to, how all the roots seem to lead back to the Kingdom of Alavaria who have shown they intend to go to war with us…” Eleanor smirked. “It seems like a bad idea.”

“Eleanor Windwhistler, you’re saying that on the year you have a good chance to win the Winter Tournament, you are entertaining the idea of cancelling it?” James Seaskimmer asked in an incredulous tone.

“Yes. Now are we discussing this or not?” Eleanor asked.

The half-goblin patriarch coughed officiously and drew himself as tall as he could manage (he was standing on a special chair). “Chair seconds the motion. Since you have both so clearly laid out your points, who would like to offer a dissenting opinion?”

“I would,” said James Seaskimmer, standing up. “The Winter Tournament has never been cancelled in Erlenberg history and is a founding institution that brings our city together. Cancelling it sends a rather disturbing message.”

House Pacha’s representative, Julian nodded. “There are also economical considerations. The tournament makes a huge amount of money for our merchants and citizens. Cancelling it is without cost.”

“Given the situation however, I agree with Councillor Windwhistler. It’s not a matter of if Alavaria will attack, it’s a question of when. It’s even possible they’ll attack the next campaigning season after winter,” explained House Antoine.

“So can we afford to cancel the tournament now? As leaders of the city we need to make sure the city is behind us,” House Lovestrike’s representative noted.

The discussion continued to wind on and while Eleanor and Rachel both tried to sway it to their side, they didn’t quite have the majority. A significant group of their fellow councillors, more than both women had expected actually, thought the tournament should be cancelled.

But when Oscar Voidsailor and James Seaskimmer both thought that the tournament should go on, there was not much one could do to change the path of the discussion. Eleanor and her unwilling ally both left the meeting quite disgruntled.

“I still can’t believe for once, we are actually agreeing on something,” Rachel hissed.

“That so-called plebeian food is good?” Eleanor asked. The pair had simply gotten sandwiches at a local vendor. Rachel had sniffed at hers for a moment, then had taken a bite and started scarfing it down.

“That and the meeting. Seas and Sand, if there’s no convincing the council, what are we going to do?”

Eleanor sighed, “We’ll think of something.” And she promptly shivered as she realized she was comforting her long-held archnemesis.

Rachel swallowed her bite of sandwich and coughed. “You know all too well that my father was an dick. He was a dick to us too. I do not mean to excuse our behavior, especially since you deserved some of it—”

“What are you trying to say, Rachel?” Eleanor hissed, glaring at the Windstorm house head.

“That maybe we should dig a hole and chuck the rotting pile of crap between our families away. Start anew,” snapped Rachel.

Eleanor blinked and stared at the Windstorm woman. The… Windstorm woman she was distantly related to. They didn’t share the same eye color, but Rachel didn’t look too dissimilar from Eleanor’s own daughters.

“Aye. I’d like that,” Eleanor said, quietly.

They both looked away from one another, quietly eating their food. Too many years of bad blood keeping the conversation from blooming further, but it was a start.

“Eleanor, Rachel, can I have a word in private?” asked a familiar voice.

Eleanor and Rachel turned to find a grumpy-looking Oscar Voidsailor approaching them, leaning on his cane.

“This is going to be interesting,” said Eleanor.

“Alright, what is your deal? Working with the Windstorms, cancelling the Winter Tournament? You’ve wanted the Winter Tournament for years and now you want to cancel when you have a shot of winning?” The half-goblin looked rather cross and somewhat more threatening, well, as threatening as someone his size could look. He barely reached Eleanor’s chest.

“Oscar, I don’t bullshit like the other councillors. I’ve already stated why,” said Eleanor.

“Really.”

Eleanor winced slightly. “Look, I’m not going to put my grandchildren up on a chopping block when it’s not safe. Frances—and Ayax for that matter, have already suffered enough.”

Oscar blinked, hard and turned to Rachel. “And you actually are working with Eleanor? She didn’t blackmail you or anything?”

“I know it’s hard to believe, but no,” said Rachel. “Can we just get to the reason why you need to talk to us?”

The half-goblin smiled ruefully. “Well I was asking first to check if you two were pulling my leg. If you weren’t, I wanted to let you know about why I wanted to keep the tournament running.”

“Hold on, you’re saying you agreed with us?” Eleanor demanded.

“Not entirely. I agree with why you want to end the tournament, but keeping it running outweighs the costs.” Oscar took a deep breath. “And my reason is that I suspect we have a traitor on the City Council. I think you and Rachel suspect the same thing. Thus, it’s in our best interest to keep the tournament running and lure the traitor out.”

“By using my grandchildren, and the entire Winter Tournament as bait?” Eleanor asked in a deeply unamused tone.

Rachel nodded. “I somehow agree with Eleanor. This is a terrible idea. The final match will draw the most crowds. This won’t be able to resist attempting to sabotage it.”

“As bad as going into war with an influential traitor in our midst?” Oscar countered.

Eleanor grimaced. “Okay no, but I cannot agree with you about the tournament.”

“That’s fine, I don’t expect you to. I encourage you to keep doing what you’re doing though, you’re turning up results,” said Oscar.

Eleanor paced across the sitting room, cane tapping on the floor as she did so. Her husband watched her, his brow furrowed in deep thought.

Edana walked in, Frances and Ayax trailing her. The White Order mage lead with, “So I heard you couldn’t cancel the tournament?”

“We couldn’t convince Oscar Voidsailor. He wants to use the Tournament as bait to lure out whomever is working with the Kingdom of Alavaria. It’s… utterly ruthless reasoning and while I agree with it to an extent, it’s far too dangerous,” Eleanor hissed.

“Is there anything we can do to force him to reconsider?” Edana asked.

Eleanor didn’t meet Edana’s face, and she didn’t say anything. She just stood, quietly, looking at the ground.

“Mom, why do I get the feeling I’m not going to like this idea, and why do I also suspect this involves Frances?” Edana asked, narrowing her eyes.

“It involves Frances and Ayax actually, and I don’t like it myself, but I can’t think of any other options.” Eleanor faced her nieces. “Just… hear me out first. All the matches including the final, have been scheduled. Frances and Ayax are now semi-finalists, with Frances facing Ophelia Voidsailor and Ayax facing Valeria Lovestrike.”

Frances realized what her Grandmother was going for instantly, but stayed quiet, keeping her thoughts to herself. She also caught a wide-eyed glance from Ayax.

“If Frances and Ayax win their matches, you can forfeit the final, which is what the conspiracy will be targeting, it’ll completely throw them off, and it’ll be out of Oscar’s hands then,” said Eleanor.

Edana stared at her mother. “They’ll be a riot. I mean, the Windwhistlers would have clearly won the tournament, but you’d be depriving the city of the final match.”

“Better than some explosion or assassination attempt that will take out something important,” Eleanor pointed out.

“Frances, Ayax, what do you think?” Edana asked.

Ayax swallowed and crossed her arms. “We don’t really have an option. I’m in.”

“I agree,” said Frances. She couldn’t bring herself to smile. She could tell her mother did not like this idea, but at the same time, the facts were clear. “You said it yourself, the tournament is unlikely to be sabotaged unless at the final match. This is our only chance.”

Edana sighed. “Alright.” She pursed her lips. “You might need to use your brigandine’s secret function. It was a really good idea on your part, but I think we have kept it in hiding for long enough.”

Smiling, Frances nodded, even as Eleanor and Ayax glanced at them curiously.

A few days later…

Near the docks of Erlenberg, Eileen, Edana’s older sister led a curious Martin and Elizabeth to a stone and wood building almost tucked away from street view.

“Our interrogations and investigation revealed the saboteur stored the gunpowder here. Unfortunately it’s deserted, but we are combing it for clues,” Eileen explained.

“And you want us to have a look?” Elizabeth asked.

Eileen smiled, “Well, you three, four if you include Ayax, have earned a certain degree of latitude given that you saved my mother’s life. You seem both smart, intelligent and possibly might bring a perspective we haven’t seen. That and Frances trusts you with her life.”

Alexander, Ayax’s father, and one of the leaders of the Windwhistler’s security forces chuckled, “She also said that ‘Elizabeth has amazing instincts. She just gets what’s wrong or what to do next,’ and that ‘Martin knows and can put together things faster than anybody I’ve ever met.’ Judging from what Ayax told me about the night at the stadium, I’m inclined to agree.”

Martin and Elizabeth both found themselves somewhat speechless at that and slightly red in the face. Frances had complimented them on this before, but it was rather flattering to hear that others agreed with her.

“And… what did Ayax say?” Elizabeth asked, hesitantly. She swallowed, immediately regretting what she asked. It didn’t seem appropriate, but she was curious.

“‘They were damn good,’” Alexander snorted as Martin and Elizabeth chuckled, and followed him into the warehouse.

The warehouse itself was simple. Two floors, the upper spaced far above, with a hole through the centre that allowed for a hoist to lower goods through. The floors themselves looked made of hardwood, with stone pillars holding them up. There were some other stacked boxes and goods in the warehouse, though, in the dim light, Martin and Elizabeth couldn’t quite make them out.

“Who owned the warehouse?” Martin asked.

“That’s the confusing part. Nobody technically does because the warehouse was on sale, and the seller has mysteriously gone on a long business trip to Roranoak on the other side of the continent and conveniently out of contact. That being said, this is the warehouse the City Watch and our own interrogators have revealed,” Eileen explained.

“You… you didn’t torture them, did you?” Elizabeth asked.

“Of course not. We did however point out that they’re facing conspiracy charges and possibly execution and anything they can tell us would make sure that they’d not face that,” Eileen said.

Elizabeth breathed out a sigh of relief and sniffed the air. Pacing over the wooden flooring, she knelt down. “Well the gunpowder was definitely here. I can smell it, and I can see some powder.” She sniffed again. “I also smell something else…” Getting up, the Otherworlder skipped over to the side of the warehouse and carefully began to inspect a few barrels off to the side.

“We can have them opened, Elizabeth, we have a warrant that exonerates us from damage.”

“Oh don’t worry. I got this.” Elizabeth pulled out her warhammer and with a violent wrench, she used the pick-axe end to pry open the barrel. The group peered into the barrel and frowns began to appear.

“Salted bar mackerel. Oh boy, yeah I can smell it now,” muttered Alexander.

“Why store bar mackerel along with your gunpowder?” Martin mused.

“Bar Mackerel is unique to Erlenberg waters and the city controls how much we can fish, sell and harvest tightly so that everybody doesn’t lose out. Whoever was using this warehouse was using it to store some other illegal goods,” Eileen explained.

“What are in the other crates then?” Martin asked.

The other boxes, bags, and crates all had a few other contraband. As they continued to examine the warehouse, Martin listed them out.

“So, aside from the bar mackerel, there is Alavari ice-spice mined from the Kingdom of Alavari’s mountains, Alavari sourflowers, Lapanterian cotton, fine-grain and Erisdalian luxury woods. Quite a range of contraband,” said Martin, one hand stroking his chin.

“Sourflowers?” Elizabeth asked.

“Very valuable magical ingredient for potions that’s native to Alavaria due to climate,” explained Eileen.

“Speaking of contraband, why is cotton from Lapanteria contraband?” Alexander asked.

“Probably because whoever was using this warehouse was selling the cotton to Alavaria,” said Elizabeth. She lifted a piece of the luxury woods, and blinked, “Huh, this is Lassa wood. My mentor Igraine taught me about this. It’s lightweight and easy to carve, but durable, used for smoking pipes and cases.” The Otherworlder frowned and quickly ran over to the other contraband, muttering to herself, and leaving Eileen, Alexander and Martin playing catch up.

“Is your friend alright?” Eileen asked.

“Yes. She’s realized something,” said Martin. Elizabeth was grabbing bits of the contraband material and using an empty crate as a table, she laid them all out.

“Right, sorry about that. But is it just me, or are all of these goods on the light side?” she hefted each corresponding piece of contraband. “Light wood, light cotton, light flowers, the heaviest is the mackerel and that’s dried out so it’s still quite light.”

“But that isn’t unusual. Most smugglers would want to run lighter cargo,” said Alexander.

“Not true, at least not with regards to cargo transported by sea, Alexander,” said Eileen. “There are a lot more valuable contraband one can smuggle to Alavaria. Weapons for one are super-heavily valued right now, as is armor. It… narrows the list of suspects down, a bit.”

Martin pursed his lips. “Well, let’s assume it’s a member of a major house that’s working with the conspirators. We know that someone wants to change the status quo in their house’s favor. Who has a trading fleet that is best suited to transport such contraband?”

Eileen winced. “Well that’d be our fleet. We use the fastest ships in Ravorna and have the best clippers, and the best barques. Yes, we do have a few fluyts, but no, if we really did want to transport contraband our ships would be the best for it.”

“Anybody else?” Elizabeth asked.

Eileen frowned. “The Seaskimmers… but that’s not a given. We modeled our strategy after theirs but with a few tweaks to create demand rather than simply service existing demand.”

“Well, all of this cargo can be purchased legally, right? They just can’t be sold between the Alavari and Human Kingdoms right?” Martin pointed out.

“No, because they’d undercut Erlenberg’s producers,” noted Alexander.

Martin’s eyes widened and he snapped his fingers. “So, where do the Seaskimmers trade?”

Eileen’s eyes widened. “Erisdale city, main export hub of Lehrbeck luxury woods. Cottonfort, the main hub for exporting Lapanteria cotton, Erlenberg for the bar mackerel, and Gweneth, Alavari’s main port for exporting sourflower and ice-spice.”

“They’re not the only company that trades there, though,” Alexander said.

Eileen shook her head. “No, but they have a route that runs precisely along those hubs that we, and many others, don’t service because they have that route nailed down anyway. It’s not definitive evidence, but it’s definitely far too coincidental.”

Alexander arched his eyebrows and grinned at the smiling Martin and Elizabeth. “Damn, you did good.”