The night sky over the rugged coast was completely black, completely devoid of any stars or moonlight. The air was incredibly cold and bitingly dry. A thick, eerie gray fog had rolled in off the ocean, wrapping the tall, jagged cliffs in a dense blanket of mist. The sound of the ocean waves crashing against the sharp rocks below was a constant, heavy roar.
Hidden down a steep, narrow dirt path, completely tucked away from the prying eyes of honest village people, sat a massive wooden building. It was Lord Farrington's secret coastal warehouse.
Inside the warehouse, Several oil lanterns hung from the thick wooden beams, casting long, dark, dancing shadows across the floorboards.
Mr. Higgins, the warehouse manager, stood in the very center of the large room. His face was completely pale. A cold sweat beaded on his forehead. He held a crumpled, thick piece of parchment tightly in his trembling hand.
