Pulling the wool over our eyes?

The cleric sleepily adjusts the straps on her leather arms and checks her travel bag to make sure it is packed with the usual necessities. Her sister is slumbering nearby, fingers still wrapped on her bow. She smiles at the memory of her sleeping that same with her toy bow back when they were children at the house of their grandmother. It is pleasant to spend time with her sister again even if it is to spy on an overreaching merchant building some massive eyesore between the cemetery and the port.
As she emerges from the homey confines of the warehouse into the sea-salted air, she stoops to pet one of the cats who favor the docks before turning to inspect the emerging behemoth being built nearby. The laborers are mumbling as they go about their duties and at least one seems to be wearing a slight smirk. As her eyes adjust to the diminished light, she sees that the shelters are gone!
She rushes to the area where the shelters once stood and a single locked chest remains among the charred remnants of wood poles and tarpaulin. It is then she notices that she does not see even one familiar face among the guards. She asks where the original guards have gone. No one speaks.
In the distance, she spies fresh parchment where the notices are usually pinned.
She moves closer and finds new notes have replaced the previous ones. She reads " To all staff: the attack on our shelters was a cold and callous act.
In response, the guards have been terminated. Replacements come on the 123rd.
Sadly, more shelters cannot be provided until the threat is fully dealt with.
But look on the bright side - you get to sleep under the stars! - L.W."
She feels anger rise anew but then strangely, a small measure of relief. Much was expected of the poorly treated workers here. Perhaps the guards found better employment with a guild hall or shop where they might have their hard work appreciated. Still, there are others suffering this work and now they must sleep without protection.
She tentatively approaches the laborer she saw smirking and asks if he knows what happened. He whispers, " I saw nothing. Many travelers pass through these woods and enter the docks. I suspect an act of civil disobedience may have occurred."
She quickly pens a note inviting the various workers to stay in the warehouse when they need to sleep. It is roomy and well stocked and has a forge for repairs and a fire for cooking. Morks the worker there will not mind and will be glad for the companionship. She drops apples in a pack with the note and hurries past the ubiquitous Waltham's World of Wool signs.
She knows her sister would not destroy the tents as Elsbeta is the most vigilant rule-follower in their family. She suspects that her sister may know something about it anyway. She pauses to inform Morks of the recent developments before gently prodding her sister's shoulder to awaken her.
"I saw nothing." Elsbeta states firmly before closing her eyes again.
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