Temple Hill - Drew Karpyshyn [47]
"And then on to Cormyr," Fendel pointedly added.
With a sigh Lhasha consented."And then on to Cormyr. As soon as we get paid, of course."
CHAPTER TEN
Fendel was right about one thing, anyway. The Elversult guards assigned to patrol the perimeter of the Caravan district were asleep at their posts. Corin felt like kicking them as he and Lhasha walked past. Their disregard for duty sickened him.
Using the directions provided by the nameless employer from the Weeping Griffin, Lhasha led the way through the rows of warehouses that made up the Caravan district. A few were tiny, little more them storage sheds, but most were enormous buildings like the one they planned to break into. The warehouses were primarily owned by the various merchant guilds that operated in Elversult-individual merchants could then rent space from the guild to store their inventory. Some were still owned privately, by wealthy families or organizations rich enough and powerful enough to resist the pressure of the merchant guilds to sell their holdings.
From personal experience as a hired guard, Corin knew that most of the buildings held little that was of value to the common thief. Huge shipments of raw goods filled the warehouses; worthless to etnyone but the guild artisans and craftsmen who would transform them into a finished product. If somebody stole the raw goods, the only buyers would be the same guild merchants who had imported the product in the first place. They wouldn't be likely to pay for the same goods twice.
To further protect against thieves, every shipment coming in to or going out of the guild controlled warehouses was meticulously inventoried and cataloged to verify a chain of ownership, making it virtually impossible to sell stolen goods in any measurable quantity. In the Caravan district forged documents, bribed customs officials, and counterfeit goods were the new tools of the crook. In Elversult's new culture of legitimate business, embezzlement was a much more efficient method of making a dishonest profit than simple robbery.
Theft was still a concern for some who operated warehouses within the district. Since Yanseldara had come to power, the smuggling trade in Elversult had fallen on hard times. Yet there was still enough illegal goods coming into the city to require significant storage facilities. Many of the privately owned warehouses were stocked with addictive spices, banned poisons, stolen gems or jewelry, slaves, and other contraband. The Purple Masks and the Cult of the Dragon had many operatives posing as humble merchants, operatives who preferred not to leave a detailed paper trail for Elversult officials to stumble across.
The underground activities of Elversult's criminal element were the only ones who really still needed to guard against burglars. They knew the city guards were useless, but they usually had no trouble coming up with their own mercenaries to watch over their inventory. Corin suspected the building Lhasha and he were breaking into was one of these illegal, and heavily guarded, warehouses.
This is it," Lhasha whispered, setting the pack she had slung over her shoulder on the ground. "Keep watch while I pop Fendel's contraption together."
In the silence of the night the soft clicks, as Lhasha joined the individual sections of Fendel's collapsible ladder together, seemed conspicuously loud. Nobody came to investigate. In less than a minute she was done. She pressed the trigger on the bottom section, and the rungs popped out with a loud snap.
"Try to keep up," she said with a slight smile.
Corin watched her ascend for a few brief seconds and knew she'd be waiting on the roof long before he even neared the top of ladder. She didn't climb up, she glided. Every movement flowed into the next, each step up with a boot, each gloved hand reaching for the rung above- every action was part of a fluid, seamless whole.
Clad in what she referred to as her work outfit-all black, form fitting clothes that were a sharp contrast to her