The sky is atypically clear in the month of Therendor. It is usually the case that the whole of the civilized south would be drenched in the warm rains and then ravaged by the bugs and other vermin that follow. Or perhaps we need simply broaden our definition of vermin....
Third Sar of Therendor, 998K - The City: Sharn. Specifically, in the seedy district of Lower Tavik's Landing. Even more specifically, this is the point where Wroann's Gate and Terminus station meet. It is here that throngs of the curious, greedy, and just plain stupid stand, surrounded by both their pitiful peers and meager possessions.
Multiple lifts rise against the side of surrounding towers and even more skycoaches take those with the coin and who believe their business is truly so pressing. But it's not enough...it's never enough. For every one traveler taken another ten simply must take his, her, or its place. They are all so different and yet every bit the same...that is the true magic of this city...
Don't believe me? Let’s take but a few examples.
Standing around the edges of the current mass is a young woman who catches your eye, but not for any great beauty, but rather for her raw defiance of it. Stringy red hair, that dark complexion, and those green eyes. If it were not for the tinge of feral features, she might have had the ravenous eye of many a Breland man. As it is she only attracts a look of caution for her unkempt look and the unusually thick muscles that bulge up under her leather armor. The great axe at her left shoulder doesn’t promote contentment either. Lily Silvertree came to Sharn because she was bored by the weak threats to her own people. Bored?
Resting a few feet away is the stoic figure of the warforged one known only as North. His calm in the face of the throngs of fleshy beings is remarkable, going as it does so far as to ignore the pack of soot covered children who are heaping scornful comments and bits of trash on the metal ‘man’. Stoic, yes, but under his adamantine shell, beats the same hunger for opportunity as Lily; the same need to find a purpose. That is what caused him to go to such lengths to smuggle himself in the cargo hold of the lightning rail…made of metal he maybe, but he like all humanoids, is still very predictable.
Standing just a little bit farther away are two more jovial figures. Recently befriended and both pretty narrow in stature, they have both lived different sorts of lives leading up to this point. The ‘human’, Wen, is healthy, strong, and decently dressed. Tom, the elf, on the other hand, is short, scruffy, and obviously native to this part of the city. No more need be said about him. J
And finally, quite a bit further away, rests Torazz. Like Lily, he is a shifter. Unlike the others who are recent arrivals, Torazz can’t wait to leave the city, for he has found his opportunities and they call on him to be elsewhere. That explains the look of caution on his face that results from the need to get on with it.
The all are here hoping for something more. They all want to have some control over their lives. More importantly, in the end, they all are under the illusion that such control is possible. No, they are all victims of fate, and fate has taken a particular form in this world…its called Sharn.
Torazz: your noble friend has connected you with someone who has an assignment for you. You don't know who your employer is, that has been kept secret, but your assigned to escort a woman out of the city. You were lead to believe that she is also of noble birth. Other than that, you have been provided no other details other than the meeting place in Lower Tavik, which is where you stand. You await your charge.
ooc: I'll try to restrain the text bloat from now on.
Third Sar of Therendor, 998K - The City: Sharn. Specifically, in the seedy district of Lower Tavik's Landing. Even more specifically, this is the point where Wroann's Gate and Terminus station meet. It is here that throngs of the curious, greedy, and just plain stupid stand, surrounded by both their pitiful peers and meager possessions.
Multiple lifts rise against the side of surrounding towers and even more skycoaches take those with the coin and who believe their business is truly so pressing. But it's not enough...it's never enough. For every one traveler taken another ten simply must take his, her, or its place. They are all so different and yet every bit the same...that is the true magic of this city...
Don't believe me? Let’s take but a few examples.
Standing around the edges of the current mass is a young woman who catches your eye, but not for any great beauty, but rather for her raw defiance of it. Stringy red hair, that dark complexion, and those green eyes. If it were not for the tinge of feral features, she might have had the ravenous eye of many a Breland man. As it is she only attracts a look of caution for her unkempt look and the unusually thick muscles that bulge up under her leather armor. The great axe at her left shoulder doesn’t promote contentment either. Lily Silvertree came to Sharn because she was bored by the weak threats to her own people. Bored?
Resting a few feet away is the stoic figure of the warforged one known only as North. His calm in the face of the throngs of fleshy beings is remarkable, going as it does so far as to ignore the pack of soot covered children who are heaping scornful comments and bits of trash on the metal ‘man’. Stoic, yes, but under his adamantine shell, beats the same hunger for opportunity as Lily; the same need to find a purpose. That is what caused him to go to such lengths to smuggle himself in the cargo hold of the lightning rail…made of metal he maybe, but he like all humanoids, is still very predictable.
Standing just a little bit farther away are two more jovial figures. Recently befriended and both pretty narrow in stature, they have both lived different sorts of lives leading up to this point. The ‘human’, Wen, is healthy, strong, and decently dressed. Tom, the elf, on the other hand, is short, scruffy, and obviously native to this part of the city. No more need be said about him. J
And finally, quite a bit further away, rests Torazz. Like Lily, he is a shifter. Unlike the others who are recent arrivals, Torazz can’t wait to leave the city, for he has found his opportunities and they call on him to be elsewhere. That explains the look of caution on his face that results from the need to get on with it.
The all are here hoping for something more. They all want to have some control over their lives. More importantly, in the end, they all are under the illusion that such control is possible. No, they are all victims of fate, and fate has taken a particular form in this world…its called Sharn.
Torazz: your noble friend has connected you with someone who has an assignment for you. You don't know who your employer is, that has been kept secret, but your assigned to escort a woman out of the city. You were lead to believe that she is also of noble birth. Other than that, you have been provided no other details other than the meeting place in Lower Tavik, which is where you stand. You await your charge.
ooc: I'll try to restrain the text bloat from now on.
