Caravans from Long Valley came here to trade their cheeses, grains and woolens that were sent by ship to several other coastal cities. The caravans returned to the valley with exotic spices, metals and other goods. The forests to the east of the city were full of lumber for ships, so the ship builders flourished as well. As the city grew, so did the churches and temples. There were over one hundred places of worship in the city and half a dozen different religions. The largest by far of all of them was the Temple of Astara, where the most sacred grimoire was kept. The grimoire had been written ten thousand years ago so it was said by the mages who kept guard over it. Warded by spells of protection, the histories told of a time when the Teachers had come to help and guide the people of Cyfandir.

One of the most major events of the last thousand years was the Mage war, which had lasted ten years, and ended with the dark wizards and sorcerers losing the final battle. The histories had it well documented, though mostly by the winning side, as histories tend to be written by the victorious. The mage war had begun slowly, with only a few dissidents at first. As their followers grew in number, the sorcerers began gaining strength. The mages that followed the Teachers took too long to realize what a danger the sorcerers had become, until it was almost too late. A battle of devastating proportions had nearly wiped out the magic users on both sides. The sorcerers had been banished to the South, under the frigid mountains away from the warm and fertile north.

As the years passed, fewer people were interested in magic, or perhaps afraid is a better term. After it became known that the sorcerers had been using blood sacrifices to increase their powers, the common people were terrified. The Mages locked themselves up in the temples and worked to return the balance of power to the earth. They still had their students, handpicked from the Long Valley and the desert peoples for the most part. Others came to work in the temples as servants until their talents were noticed.

The teachers had left a sacred grimoire, a book of their most potent spells and magicks, and the mages kept it warded every day and every night, only bringing it out at the sacred festivals to work toward the healing of the earth. Slowly, the land returned to a semblance of normalcy. Only a few of the oldest mages knew of the secrets held within the grimoire, it was too old and fragile to be brought out and used any longer. After the dangerous and violent mage war had occurred nearly four hundred years previously and when it was all said and done with, those mages who remained had locked it away to prevent another disaster from happening. At the top of the highest tower of the temple it was kept, hidden and warded. Down at the docks, the midday bustle of the fish markets and ships coming and going raged at a dull roar. Gulls screaming over discarded fish guts, fishwives screeching and the clanging of ship’s bells created a deafening cacophony. The smells of fish and frying meats swamped the air. Sailors and street rats crowded the dock, walking past the stalls to find more interesting diversions. Only a few yards away from the docks were the shops and brothels and taverns. Stale odors of urine, spilled ale and old vomit dominated there, nasty looking water ran down trenches on either side of the cobbled street.

No one noticed as a shadow darted quickly from one of the larger ships to a market stall selling mussels and clams. It slipped past another stall loaded with fish to skirt around a corner dodging from one doorway to the next. At a dingy tavern it slipped in through the door behind another patron, unnoticed. As quietly as a wisp of smoke, the shadow floated through the kitchen and out the back door.

The back alley behind the tavern led upwards toward the Temple of Astara. Lines were strung above the alley between the brothels, clean laundry hanging out to dry in the less than fresh air. The perfumers and scent merchants prospered a great deal in the lower end brothels as the whores that worked there tried to mask the stink of fish. The more elegant houses were the farthest from the docks and the newly arrived travelers would go as far as they could afford to escape the smells of the docks.

The shadow was tempted to slither into one of the brothels for a moment’s respite, but for the dire warnings of the sorcerers who had given him this task. He must arrive at the temple before dark in order to hide when the sun had gone down. With a soft sigh, the shadow continued up the alley, staying away from the bright shafts of sunlight that made their way between the buildings.

A sudden barking startled him as he paused at an open door. A tiny dog with an extremely loud bark was yapping hysterically at him. Surprised that it could even sense him, he gestured in the air in front of it’s face. A choked noise was all it could make and it ran back inside whining. He glanced inside, but it was too dark to see anything. Sliding past the darkness, he continued on. Ducking from one alley to another, it still took a long time to finally reach the outer walls of the temple.

Crowds of worshippers passed in and out of the gates, and it was easy to blend in with them. The enormous painted stone dragons that stood guard at each side of the gate looked ominous and forbidding as if they could come alive at any given time. Standing nearly fifty feet high, they were a tribute back to the time before the dragons went extinct. The iron gates were attached at the pedestals that each of the dragons stood upon.

The temple itself was huge. Many towers rose up from the central building, as well as from the many smaller additions that had been built on over the years. The temple gardens were on the left side just inside the gates, there were fully laden fruit trees shading the pathway by the wall. Raised beds of herbs and other plants lined the other side of the path. Most of the flowers were dying, and there were apprentices trimming and clipping the plants. One of the servants was collecting the trimmed plants and tying them in bundles, getting ready to hang them in the cool, dry storage rooms below the kitchens.

The shadow dashed to the wall underneath the trees. He had memorized the entire layout of the temple. His masters had drilled him until he walked it in his dreams without ever seeing it before. The apprentices and servants were completely focused on their tasks, taking no notice of the darkened space between the tree and the wall. It was time to take a rest, he was inside the walls now, and the most difficult part of his assignment was still ahead.