Griff's small rowing boat bumped softly against the hull of the Arcarti ship docked along the pier of Aldrun, Griff grabbed hold of part of the hull, hoping no one had heard anything. If his intelligence was right, the ship was a cargo ship carrying supplies Westwards for the Empire, at most there'd be a few soldiers on board, most having likely slipped off the ship to visit a tavern or brothel while in harbour. Griff began to climb the side of the ship, the decorative hull, normal for an Empire ship, to provide him with handholds. Reaching the deck he slowly peeked over the ledge to check the coast was clear. He notes four pikemen guarding the gangplank onto the ship from the pier, but apart from that the ship seems deserted, not a sound apart from the creaking of the hull and the waves breaking gently against the ship. [i]Almost too easy.[/i] Griff thought to himself as he quickly made his way down into the hold.

The hold was dark and smelled like something had died in it, a long time ago. A single lantern hung from a wall casting a little light on the ship's cargo. There was little of note, some grain, clothing and oil, likely for lanterns or flaming arrows, Griff had been hoping to deal a bigger blow than this but he was here now and so he began about his work. He started to spread the grain and clothing around, covering the floor of the hold in a layer of flammable materials. The small wasn't large and it didn't take long. Griff grabbed the lantern off the wall and swung it hard against the floor. The crude glass shattered and the flaming oil inside flew out onto a pile of cloth tunics. Griff waited a moment to make sure the tunics caught, before turning for the exit. 

"Nice day." He mused to the soldiers as he walked past them, hoping they'd assume he was a member of the crew. One nodded in agreement while the other three seemed uninterested and bored of their post. As Griff began to pick up his pace, walking quickly along the pier, he heard a guard shout out for him to stop. He turned his head to see one guard walking after him, when there was a sudden explosion and the ship began bellowing smoke. The fire had reached the oil, Griff assumed breaking into a sprint as the guards recoiled from the shock. Reaching the end of the pier he glanced back to see two guards in pursuit. Pushing his way through the crowded quayside he decided to hide from the guards in a tavern. 

Bursting through the door into The Mast. Griff looked around surveying the patrons. [i]No soldiers, that's good.[/i] He thought, glad he hadn't just burst into a tavern full of off duty men, it had happened before and hadn't gone well. He eyed the sword at the hip of a man in a tattered grey cloak before deciding the man was likely just a mercenary, and even more likely drunk, rendering no threat. Satisfied he would be safe, Griff took a seat at the bar and ordered a drink.