[center][b]The Blacksmiths[/b][/center]

As the dawn broke across the town of [i]Skaraw[/i], the bustling around the Blacksmiths did not go unnoticed by those that would see Aiana's business fail. Not a stone throw away from her lively shop window and seemingly endless customers, Cario Seis the dark elf blade smith sat upon his trade wagon. It was a brightly coloured but worn thing, bright reds and piercing blues mixed with the wealthy shades of both gold and silver.

Cario had been selling his wares on the sea front from many a year, and this no good dwarf bitch was ruining his life. He had no care for the race at all, fat and bothersome bunch. Aiana though, he despised the most. Truly and honestly, it was green envy mixed with jealousy that filled his blue blooded veins, though he would never admit it to a living soul. Sitting there on top of his wagon, he whipped the leather lengths that sat in his hands and his trusty pull horse Bronte started forward.

On this day his wagon was less weighty than usual, for no weapons nor equipment was contained inside. Instead, three hirelings with blade and strength lurked within. All of his money was slowly draining and he would be damned if he was going to let it drain into the gutter of that foul wench! He drove on up to the Blacksmiths front and let his wagon meagrely conceal the shop.

The three hirelings, dress in dark grey with cowls around their faces, jumped from the back and plunged into the nearby alley, the back entrance to Aiana's smithy was the target here - easy access.