To the knowledge of the two elderly Naga it was rare that a Naga went against her instincts, yet they just had, entered the zone of death, sought out the deadly spheres. Although too old to procreate, and with winter upon them they sought out the humans. “Galnerra!” the older Naga hissed. The two had just stuck out their heads above the waves. Before them was tge westward port of Galnerra. Quays of durable granite reached out into the sea like the tentacles of a squid. Just by looking at it the two Naga felt as if Galnerra was as equally poisonous as a squid. “This needs to be prepared properly.” the older mumbled, diving under the waves again, taking her comrade to the hills and mountains far out from Galnerra.Gerry Harthin glanced up the large granite walls. The entire city of Galnerra was fashioned from that rock. Located not all too far from the mountains there was no shortage of granite to be expected any time soon. Far above the port a castle looked over the huge natural bay in which the port had been growing for centuries. Fortifications on the peninsulas flanking the port ensured the safety of the city. His eyes instinctively sought for the dark side alleys. The ones in which men if less dubious nature would find themselves menaced. Although Galnerra was hometown of a king, it had those alleys, just lije every port had them. Brothels, dealers of dubious goods and crooks and gamblers. Gerrys people. In one of the less known inns he rented a bed, by the time of his arrival his reputation had preceded his arrival, it surprised him the guards had not apprehended him at the gates. “I am looking for the merchant by the Name of Marius Sylman.” he spoke in hush tongue to the inn keeper. The bald man, seemingly made of muscles raised an eyebrow, smiled a toothless grin. “Three alleys north, take it left and walk another alley. There you’ll find him.” he held his left hand out. Gerry gnarled and put a few copper coins in the waiting palm. Nothing in the crooked quarters came for free. He presumed that nothing in Galnerra came free. After wolfing down a tasteless meal to still his hunger, he grabbed his bag and followed the directions given to him. The house he found did not exactly cause a feeling of confidence in its construction. The stones that had once made its base were blackened by at least two fires, the wood making up the walls was wood stolen from ship yards and wrecked ships. “Morningstar” was one of the wrecked ships the builders of the house had scavenged, its name clearly visible on the street. Marius had named his shop after that ship, sold a few ragged swords and other arms in order to maintain a facade for the city guards that on occasion inspected, and ransacked the shops and inns in the district. The arms he sold were too bad a quality for anyone to buy or steal. But Garry didn’t go to Marius for the arms. As he entered the shop the small room was empty, safe for the merchandise and Marius sitting in a corner. A quick glance around the damp, dim room told him that Marius business was better than ever. Never had he see a larger collection of ragged, stump, rusting weapons. Whenever Marius felt to display more of his useless weaponry he either had them forged or stolen. Both required money, and that Marius seemed to have that in abundance. “I’m here to do business.” he anounced, reaching over his shoulder to lock the door. Marius stood up from behind his corner, removed the cloak from his head. The tall, almost two meter tall blond man looked Garry up and down. Without uttering a word he waved him to follow him to another room. From the obvious ruse shop he followed Marius into a deceptive living room. Under the dirty and immensely ugly rug in that room was a trap door which Marius opened after moving the rug aside, he climbed down and Garry followed. Still black from the fires the granite rocks of the basement outlined the true size of the building, and thus the room. A tiny door told Garry of an escape way into the neighboring house. The door was of heavy oak, strong and reliable. Unlike the rest of the building. Several counters and display on the walls were filled with Marius’ true merchandise. “Buy or sell?” the giant asked over his shoulder. “Sell, but the more I look around here, maybe I can persuaded to buy.” Garry nodded in various directions. With a wide gesture Marius invited Garry to join him a table in the center of the room. From the sailors sack over his shoulder Garry unloaded a few objects, immediately Marius recognized them as items originally belonging to the church. “Are they hot?” he glanced over the table. “The circle won’t miss them.” Garry lifted a chalice up to shine in the light of a low hanging lamp. “They are unaware of the treasures they chose to keep buried under that monastery.” Marius took a step back. “Cliffton?”

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