"Ah, yes, Ravens Bluff... A wonderful city for all kinds of trade and assorted other businesses, isn't it?" Dar Al Asam raised his glass to you with a wide grin beneath his flamboyant red mustache, narrowly avoiding to spill his wine when another wave rocked the boat back and forth. The journey on his 'Arianna' down the Dragon Reach has been rough, the early autumn storms stronger than usual, but you were past the dangerous waters, due to reach your destination before sunrise. So the Calishite captain invited you to celebrate before you part ways with a feast and choice wine - a generosity he could easily afford since you had to pay double, most other ships staying in the harbors instead of braving the wild waters.
"But I guess it is your first visit? I understand you coming here - plenty of opportunity to find work, but also easy to get into trouble by taking a wrong step - ever since the end of the war the city has been different."
He paused a moment, pondering these words. "Well, not that I'm complaining, ever since mayor Charles O'Kane's power became mostly representative, the Merchant Assembly has been on the rise, and by now their only rival to control of the city is the Noble Council. That powershift has been good for trade, and what's good for trade is good for me.
By the way, did you know that Embro Ambrath, head of one of the big merchant houses, recently bought himself the title of a lord? No? Guess how much he paid. Two million. Two million gold. I tell you, the nobles aren't happy about a glorified tailor having a seat on their Council - best don't say it that way though... well, anywhere. Even the walls have ears, and news travels fast in this city.
But well, enough politics. You want my advice - never get into that power struggle. Easy to make enemies, hard to make friends who won't sell you out in a heartbeat for minimal gain.
Know where some money is to make? Not easy money, mind you, otherwise it would long been gone. Sarbreen, capital of some Dwarven kingdom that was overthrown by orcs hundreds of years ago. They built Ravens Bluff right on top of it - pre-made sewers, economic choice! There's still lots of treasure down there. The first level has been stripped clean long ago I hear, but in the lower parts there's still a lot to find if you can brave decrepit corridors and whatever ugly things roam there. I'll make you a good price on any artifacts you find." His advice seemed more mercantile than altruistic; earlier he boasted that such items had the highest profit margins of everything he ships. Maybe he was just looking for some fools who risk their lifes so he can make easy money...
As you slowly reflect on this thought, you feel your eyelids getting heavy, and his voice now barely reaches your ears, seeming to come from far far away. "... So really, look into it...
Ah, I see it is finally working. Sorry, nothing personal, just business. I told you not to get into the cities politics, pity no one gave you this warning before it was too late..."
What was he talking about? As you slowly drift to sleep, you're left wondering how you seem to have unkowingly run afoul some influential enemy without even being in the city yet...
__________________________________________________ _____
Your sense for movement and noise returns slowly, and you notice you're lying on a hard wooden floor, unable to move. The ship's swaying from side to side can't be called gentle by any stretch of the word; it seems the storm outside has gotten stronger and the sounds of heavy rain, howling wind and crashing waves interspersed with occasional thunder reaching you seem to confirm that suspision.
When you finally manage to force your eyes open, you see you are below deck in a small compartment at the back, separated from the rest of the cargo hold by a wooden grill with a simple door. On the other side, a toppled over simple wooden chair slides back and forth occasionally when the ship leans sideways. Two seemingly magical torches illuminate the deck, though they are too far away to give your improvised prison more than twilight, with the shadows dancing wildly every time the ship was rocked by another wave.
You don't know how long you've been unconscious, but your captors evidently had enough time to strip you of weapons and armor. Iron manacles, some of them rusty from disuse, bind your hands and ropes around your feet prevent you from moving about freely. Once you had time to recover, you notice that Magnus shows no signs of awakening. And though for some reason he was placed several meters away from the rest of you, leaning with his back against an oaken barrel, you can clearly see the signs of physical punishment covering his body.
A sudden burst of laughter from perhaps half a dozen men rips you out of your contempation; the noise came from upstairs and now you concentrate on it, the laughter and bits of unintelligible conversation persist in volume and location.
All
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everything registering as magical was taken from you in addition to weapons and armor
Candycorn
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Whenever they manage to wake you up, you distinctly remember falling asleep during the feast without any physical confrontation
OOC I
OOC II
OOC III(current)
Madness, Blood and Thunder in Ravens Bluff IC
Originally Posted by Jeff the Green
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