Advancing the Plan
"We are ready to begin the next phase," Davaeron's report was read by Rieltar. 'Young Anchev' knew the letter, but handed it to Rieltar. Rieltar had come to accept his silence, falsely believing it to be the obedience of a trained dog. Rieltar's voice grew more pleased with each word. Now he issued commands, "You will contact those under you."
By now, he understood more of the Plan. The iron in Naskel was to be poisoned; Davaeron operated a secret mine buried deep in Cloakwood Forest. Rieltar tortured the location out of a dwarf he befriended. Slowly, the Iron Throne was buying up all the iron in the region and beyond, using various fronts and masking who they really were. Doppelgangers had infiltrated rival merchants, though why none had been detected magically made him suspect either their rivals were inept or Rieltar had them using other means. It would take months if not years to pull off such an operation.
He did not know where the backing for all this came, but Rieltar outlined the next step. Two mercenary groups were to be hired: the Black Talons and the Chill. They would begin operations gradually and to increase the tainted iron from Nashkel spread, they would step up the raids.
It was cold, detailed and precise. It must never link back to them. There would be three main components, and overseeing them would be him. While he watched, Rieltar would deal with their operations outside the regions. Controlling the shipping lanes in nearby ports took priority, as did placing the stranglehold on foreign iron. Caravans would not make it through, so they only had to buy up those loads transported in ships.
At the same time, Davaeron's mine would continue to stockpile their ore and when the time was right, the Iron Throne would drip-feed the market, driving the price up beyond gold. All he had to do was ensure things ran smoothly, and keep the Nashkel Iron tainted.
As a minor outpost, Nashkel was nothing more than a dot on the map; only the mine kept the town alive. It belonged to Amn, and was outside Baldur's Gate sphere. This would increase tensions between the two nations, allowing the Iron Throne to profit from the threat of war, selling weapons to both sides. They did not want an actual war, as the northern city might decide to seize their iron, but playing up the threat was to their advantage. He was to say nothing, however. If asked for an opinion, he was to voice a neutral comment.
Rieltar looked at him, "To ensure these orders are carried out, I am assigning…"
He did not listen to the rest. It did not matter which of Rieltar's lackeys were assigned.
"There will a call for aid when the authorities cannot find the source of the taint," Winski warned, speaking low from across the table. Winski was not usually present, but would ensure that the 'young master' would follow Rieltar's instructions in his absence.
"Then I will answer."
Rieltar stared, then slowly began to laugh. Winski looked shocked, then he nodded to himself.
Later on, he reviewed the Plan. With Rieltar gone, the three agents were his to command. Like Davaeron, Tazok would report directly to him and organise the mercenaries. Tranzig would head the mines through a half-orc named Mulahey. Mulahey had not inkling of who his true employers were and would use his petty magics to cow nearby kobolds. Tranzig, a mage of minor talent, would direct the flow and report back from Beregost. As the closest town to Baldur's Gate, Beregost would be affected first, and was part of the caravan route between Nashkel and Baldur's Gate. There was a pass between the Cloudpeak Mountains that linked Nashkel to Athkatla, but it could be blocked – by natural means or otherwise.
As he sat meditating, he thought on the impact of this. Hundreds of lives would be affected. Once again, money was power, and the strong ruled the weak. Long term, the impact would devastate the region. He began to make mental preparations to order grain. Some ships could expect to be lost, so the cargo would be spread out, but once the lack of iron hit, there would be a panic.
Doppelgangers could also be used to spread the poison. Winski's presence had confirmed his suspicion: it was an alchemical mixture. If it degraded iron and iron ore, could it be traceable? He imagined not by mundane means, and Winski would have made it impervious to magical scrying. He needed to know how many Doppelgangers there were, and work out how many he could use without arousing suspicion.
He needed to put his own people in place or turn Rieltar's lackeys, and that meant binding others to him. Would Tamoko be willing to help him 'solve' this iron plague? Would her honour forbid it?
The truth was, he hated the Plan. He found it detestable. Hiring mercenaries and bandits was contemptible. Power he understood, even respected, but Tamoko was right: gold was a fickle thing and true strength came from within. It was the blade in his hand, not the petty, trite words and whims of spoil, pampered nobles that deserved awe. Money was nothing more than a means of allowing the weak to control the strong.
Now he understood why Tamoko thought so little of it. He would put a stop to the Plan but only after using it to solidify is own position. Without it, Rieltar was too strong to dislodge. It was not enough to kill him; he would take away his power, leave him helpless, alone and at the mercy of the street-dogs and rats. Then, when Rieltar had nothing left, he would strangle him for Mother.
Winski would suffer the same fate. He would never call another 'master' again.