Bunt tugged at Murichs pant leg. "Is that bad?"

"Not at all. What looks like a bad thing can be turned into good thing. Just stick by me, I've done this many times before."

Mr Johns cut through the Brettonians uproar, "Of course, if any of you are unhappy with these arrangements, Mr Mooks would be happy to escort them back to the tavern. You will receive just pay for time spent, of course."

The Brettonians muttered amongst themselves. Two stepped forward to take up the offer. Murich shook his head. They definitely hadn't worked Marienburg docks before.

Mr Mooks snorted, depositing something vicious on the sandy floor. He beckoned to the Brettonian shirkers and strode off without a word. They looked at each other for a second then gave chase.

Murich stifled a laugh in the back of his throat as he watched the trio leave. "We won't be seeing them again."

"I am thinking Mooks in bunkroom, lots of pounding ya?!" said Zloremar.

Murich nodded, "I think, this time, I know what you mean."

Mr Johns drew their attention again, "Time is limited, so without further ado, gentlemen. Please take a torch from the wall and we shall get to work."

Each man did as instructed and followed Johns along the cavern floor to a wide, sloping tunnel. As they entered, the sounds of water lapping at rock drifted up from below.

After a short walk the group could make out a long sloop in the distance. The cavern floor sloped down into the water, the tunnel itself continuing along into the dark. The boat was quite close to shore with a ramp leading from its edge to the sand.

They were soon at work, the ramp making easy going of the job. Piles of boxes, a long as man and thick as a large poplar trunk, were neatly stacked inside the sloop.

Murich tried to guess at the contents. He wouldn't be caught trying to open them. For one, it wasn't good manners to do such things when working aside of the law. For another thing, they were held shut by steel belts. Smithing marks indicated they would need sufficient violence to be opened.

He knew they were heavy. Very heavy. Each box required at least three men to lift, the ramp bowing if more than two groups traversed it. For Murich and his companions it was all the more difficult. Bunt could just manage to stand under the box to offer support, but could not provide enough leverage.

As they bounced and toiled up the soft sand of the tunnel, the contents of the box made no sound. Not even so much as a rattle. Murich was thinking all the while. If he could find out what was in the boxes, he might be able to find a way to lever more pay from the job.

After an hour and with only four heavy boxes carried by the thrio, Murich stopped
thinking about much at all. He was too distracted by the screams of pain from his body.

The work had been long and tiring. After lifting so many of the heavy boxes, Murich still couldn't guess what was in them. His back felt like his head from the previous morning, throbbing and painful from all the lifting and bending.

The Brettonians seemed not to notice the stress of the work themselves. They were stooped long before they came here. Murich had heard that most Brettonians were farm workers anyway. No better than slaves, supplying the rich with all they desired through back breaking labour. Murich mused on how uncivilised they were. At least the Empire had guilds, a great social advance in Murich's opinion.

Marienburg's guilds were the best example. Many a poor man had risen to wealth because of them.

His musings were cut off by a hearty slap on the back. The odd elf, Zloremar, was grinning from ear to ear.

"In food we mingle together, ya?"

"Err, yeah... sure?"

Bunt appeared from underfoot, "He wants to go eat, he would like you to join us, but he wanted to ask you himself."

"Oh, supper sounds good. Haendryk knows we can afford it huh?"

The Halfling nodded in agreement. "Yes, back in the Moot I could eat for a week on this pay."

Zloremar watched on with a furrowed brow, trying to pick up on the words. His efforts were made more difficult by the difference in accents.

"Ha, a week? My old Mama could get me several weeks worth of meals on this pay."

Bunt shook his head, "No, I meant eat for a week, not a weeks worth of meals. Eat for a whole week, nonstop."

Murich understood and half smiled.

"Okay, I see. Halflings have winning ways when it comes to food, all imperials should know that, eh?"

He winked at the Halfling who nodded back.

Zloremar's grin returned, "Okie, I too could eat, your mother, for a week in winning ways. She worth the pay, ya?"

He pumped his elbow at Murich and winked his eye enthusiastically. Murich was slightly confused by the elf's bizarre and bawdy display. "Look, just what are you playing at, pointy?"

Zloremar stopped grinning. he turned to Bunt and rambled in his flowing, flowery
tongue. He then gave Murich a meaningful look.

Bunt shrugged, "He says that he was trying to say, he would be honoured to meet you mother and share a meal. He also said it would be worth paying for. I think he is just trying to be friendly or flattering or something.
Maybe it's an elf thing?"

"A bit too friendly, I think!" Murichs' mood dropped, the explanation made him think of home more than he would have liked.

"Yeah well, he uses a lot of formal speech so I don't think he has much of a clue about life. I think you should just ignore him."

Murich nodded and looked at the elf. His expression hadn't changed, he was obviously waiting for a response.

Murich raised his thumb. "Okay, if you think its worth doing we'll do it some
day."

Zloremar look quizzically at Murich's thumb, then back to Murich, then his own thumb. He stuck his thumb out at arms length.

"Okie, doo-doo."

The grin returned. Murich just smiled back and nodded slowly.

Bunt shook his head, "Well, it's some sort of progress. I've been starving for hours now, let's go eat!"

He started rubbing his hands together enthusiastically.

"Yes, let's go. I know a nice little place over in Guilderveld. It's calm, the liquor isn't watered down and the girls are clean. Now we can afford it, we might as well enjoy it."

Bunt nodded in affirmation as Zloremar grinned in his charismatic way. Murich just sighed and the trio shuffled out of the cavern.