[Tarot]

There were no further questions, nor further demands from Konstaninou. The disfigured bartender just gave a curt nod to seal the contract, certain that the job would be carried out without a problems. This was an expensive one, but the specialists were some of the very best, and money would never be an issue. Gears would be set in motion. The opportunity was unprecedented.

The brutish Zoric escorted the party of assassin outside the Angry Sea Trout through a secondary backdoor. It was carefully concealed behind a piece of furniture, but pulling on a chandelier caused it to slide sideways, revealing the passage. Clearly, like a lot of things on the island, there was more to this establishment than met the eyes. "If you would follow me," he said, the burly man disappearing through the doorway. After a few meters, the corridor ended with another hidden door that led to a back alley behind the tavern. From there, reaching the Docks was a matter of a minute or two.

Zoric's schooner, the Fortunata, had her own pier as all the ships of the natives did. Those were not many, truth be told. Only the truly wealthy could afford the maintainance of a decent vessel. The ship was remarkably well-kept and looked every bit like a legitimate ship. It had been repainted recently, immaculate sails gracing its two masts. A few sailors could be seen on board as Zoric walked up the gangboard.

"You'll be leaving the harbor in two candlemarks," the scarred man barked the order to a man with a three-brightening stubble. He was smoking a cigar, sitting with his feet crossed upon the rails, enjoying the breeze with a half-empty bottle next to him. "Aye, aye," the man grunted a bit, taking on a more attentive pose and standing up to pay Zoric some amount of respect, though he was not above scratching in front of his superior. His hands were strongs and he carried himself in a way that suggested much more skill than he wished to show.

"This man is Captain Latresse," Zoric said, explaining the assignment as far as dropping the rowboats. He did not say exactly what Nimavel and company would be doing, but the seaman seemed to connect the dots. "You will spend the darkening at sea, and drop the rowboats at sunrise."

The Captain mumbled something that could be interpreted as an acknowledgement of the order. "Well then, let's get the old girl dressed, hmm?" He muttered some more and rushed off to boss the small crew around. Zoric looked at the assembled party of assassins for a moment, then turned his back and disembarked. Nimavel's party made themselves at home on the ship. Soon. Soon they would be setting sail.