[Regin Hardhammer]

Marreth waited inside the barrel as he felt the boat come to a stop in front of the main ship. He could not have been happier to leave his wooden prison. Drenched, cold, and nauseated, Marreth vowed never to travel in barrels again. He had been tossed around, pummeled by waves, and covered in flour, which still stuck to his soaked skin. It would be amazing if he didn’t catch a deadly illness soon after.

With a jolt, Marreth felt his barrel being lifted onboard right after it had been hoisted from the sea andthen rolled over to a spot. He was becoming dizzy, but took some consolation from the fact that he had devised such a perfect plot. He chuckled with glee as he thought that the very people letting him into the Elvish ship were the Elves themselves. With a dull thud, Marreth heard the barrel being set down on the ship’s wooden deck. There was the sound of feet scurrying away then silence.

Slowly, Marreth lifted the lid of the barrel, creating a small space barely large enough for him to look around. He peered out and saw that he was in the middle of a secluded niche, surrounded on three sides by walls. Bit by bit, other barrels containing his comrades were being set down, slowly filling up the deck. In his immediate area, however, he was alone. Marreth felt like jumping out and slitting some Elvish throats, but his common sense prevailed. His purpose here was to sabotage the ship by weakening its mast, inviting the slightest wind to snap it in two.

Marreth knocked cautiously on the side of his barrel, but there was no reply. He cautiously lifted the top an inch more and stared out. Marreth hoped that the Elves, too preoccupied with loading the supplies onto the ship, would fail to notice anything amiss. With all eyes rivetted on the containers still being loaded onto the ship, Marrreth was able to slide his body out of the barrel and then slink down to the floor.

Carefully replacing the top, but leaving a pile of flour in his wake, Marreth crept forward and reached the main mast, which stood strong, reaching high into the salty sea air. After hiding for a moment under a piece of excess sail canvas near the mast, Marreth began his climb. He moved nimbly skyward, clutching the boring instrument firmly in one hand while he scaled the pole. So far, the operation was proceeding flawlessly, and soon it would be complete.

Carefully aiming his tool, Marreth began boring energetically into the mast about half way up. A broad smile was on his face. When he had finished making the tiny whole that went from one side of the mast to the other, he removed a small piece of paper from his pocket and slipped it inside the hole. He was intent on his work, but his attention was suddenly diverted by a loud noise coming from the deck below.....