In the world of The Misplaced Dungeon.

{Timeline: September 2018 – MD during and just after Ch. 21}

Killer inspected the interior of the Blind Pig tavern, it was thankfully empty, so he scuttled in and keeping close to the walls made his way behind the bar. Another quick check and he climbed onto the bar, the feat greatly facilitated by his hand-like paws and retractable claws. He stretched and his form shimmered as he changed. The large headed rat was replaced by a very small humanoid that managed to look faintly ratlike.

Killer looked down at himself and smiled, ‘bless Ocidon and the Creator.’ Thought Killer as he accessed his storage device and placed a letter in the centre of the bar and pinned it in place with a heavy purse.

Killer looked round again then scrambled back down to the floor, before resuming his ratlike form and scurrying away, he still had several taverns to visit.

* * *

Daorn dropped in at the Blind Pig for lunch and a pint of Faruk’s finest ale. As usual Faruk welcomed him personally, they had known each other for years after all.

“Well old friend, if you want some free ale come by after six, Vinculus has paid for another night of free booze,” Faruk stated. “Please tell your friends, I’d prefer to have my tavern full of you lot than Vinculus’ lot.”

Daorn just sat at his table looking across at his friend while his brain tried to process the information. Faruk just chuckled as he watched Daorn.

The two men chatted amiably for a while then Faruk left to supervise his staff and look after his clients while Daorn finished his meal and left to return to his shop.

Daorn cursed as he closed up his shop, secured the storm shutters and locked the door. He then called his wife and children. Lottie was out! Daorn explained about the pirates' party and the free booze and sent his second son to find her and get her home before the boozing started.

Then they all started to transfer the contents of the shop to the secure cellar. Thankfully Gresar arrived back with Lottie safely. After the shop was cleared they moved all their valuables into the cellar. By the time they had finished they could hear the local toughs celebrating.

* * *

Haaroof was in his second tavern. This one was serving rum! He joined in on the cheers in honour of Vinculus, grabbed a mug and settled in to serious drinking. When some idiots interrupted him with their fight he lashed out with his knife.

The tavern’s bouncers were quickly on the scene with their clubs. Haaroof dimly realized it was time to find another tavern so he staggered off before the bouncers got round to him.

* * *

Kajan and his mates quickly got tired of watching the party and reasoning they would have no problem finding other berths they abandoned the Harrower en mass and poured into the closest tavern they could find and starting downing Vinculus’ liquid bounty.

Having drunk the tavern dry, killing the bartender and wrecking the bar and its contents in their displeasure, the drunken pirates and toughs reeled off to fresh pastures.

* * *

“Papa, quick come look,” exclaimed Lottie from her post at the Dormer window overlooking the harbour.

Daorn grumbled his way up to the loft thanking his stars that there were few taverns in their neighbourhood. He didn’t see anything strange until his daughter explained the significance of the two longboats secured to the stern of the Red Terror.

“Papa, men leapt aboard the Red Terror from the longboats...” said Lottie.

They both watched in silence as several forms were dumped into the harbour. Men swarmed up the masts and let down the sails even as the longboats tugged the Red Terror round to face the harbour mouth.

“It’s a fu...bloody raid, how could they have... Oh damn, the raiders must have arranged for...” muttered Daorn.

“Papa, they’re taking the prize too.”

They watched in silence as the two ships caught the wind and with gathering speed sailed out of the harbour followed by the four longboats that headed towards a vague shadow waiting out at sea.

“Shouldn’t we tell someone?” asked Lottie.

“I suppose so, but it just isn’t safe out there with all those bastards all liquored up,” answered her father.

* * *

Killer and two other man-rats were spreading lamp oil around and on the goods stored in the warehouse, they used some of their copious supply to lay trails of oil to and onto the timber walls of the building. Once their storage devices were empty two left the warehouse via the rat hole in the wall they had left clear of oil. Killer used his fire starter to produce a flame and after setting the oil on fire he scurried out of the burning warehouse via the rat hole his friends had used earlier.

“Papa, look Vinculus’ warehouse is burning!”

Daorn looked and realized his daughter was right, the huge timber building down on the waterfront, and far too close to their home, was indeed burning. Even as he watched something truly inflammable caught, and flames swept through the collapsing roof.

Daorn raced downstairs after asking Lottie to keep watching and yelled at his family to dig out the ship’s pump from the cellar and all the hoses they could find.

* * *

Three warehouses were burning, two widely spaced at each end of the dock district and one on the outskirts of the commercial district further inland. For a long time nobody did anything, first the warehouses belonged to Vinculus the Red, Port Salvage’s pirate chief and second the only people sober enough to be worried were too scared of the drunken mob on the streets to venture out of their houses.

The burning warehouses spread burning cinders to their neighbouring buildings when their walls started to collapse. The fires spread rapidly. Those still sober banded together to get themselves their treasures and their families out of the areas affected by the spreading fires. Their worst problem was dissuading the drunks from molesting them.

Down on the docks Daorn rallied some of his neighbours as he and his sons set up their pump and starting wetting his shop down. His wife and daughters dug out his other two pumps, a ships chandler had some odd items after all.

Haaroof staggered along in search of another tavern when he tripped over something in the road, he savagely attacked it with his knife and was swept of his feet by a wave of cold none too clean water.

Getting back on his feet he realized that a bunch of locals had doused him with a hose, they had attacked him! Haaroof raised his dagger high and charged the fools. The young teens working the pump fled and when their parents arrived to find out why their hose had stopped supplying water they found Haaroof attacking the pump. They charged him with cries of rage and didn’t bother chasing the drunken pirate when he fled being to anxious to get the pump working again.

The following morning the sun rose on a scene of devastation with numerous fires still smouldering. Here and there a few houses and shops remained relatively undamaged among a field of black char.