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(IC) Fitz's Folly
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<blockquote data-quote="FitzTheRuke" data-source="post: 7264336" data-attributes="member: 59816"><p><strong>Miss Imogen</strong></p><p></p><p>Miss Imogen left the Grand Souk and travelled up the widest of the city streets to the largest of the city gates. She worked her way through the crowd and through the gate to the Old City. Three ancient, vine-covered ziggurats towered above the district, which was a colourful juxtaposition of ancient and decaying (but still occupied) stone structures interspersed with flimsy new huts and longhouses of bamboo and thatch.</p><p></p><p>In her short time in Port Nyanzaru, she had learned that the Old City was run by “beggar princes” in a mocking parallel to the merchant princes of the city proper. They had no official authority, but each of them sat atop a web of debts, favours, incriminating information, and loyal muscle that allowed them to get things done with an efficiency that the merchant princes sometimes envied. Unlike the merchant princes, whose positions were based on wealth that passed from generation to generation in the same family, the identities and even the number of the beggar princes constantly changed.</p><p></p><p>The Old City was run-down but it wasn’t exactly a slum or a haven for thieves. Most of the residents were lower-class labourers or struggling artisans who couldn’t afford the higher rents of homes inside the city walls. Pock-Marked Poe was ostensibly one of these; a potter of some reknown. But Miss Imogen knew him to be something more, at once both a "beggar prince" and a highly-placed member of the international Black Network - the Zhentarim. Or at least, that's who she expected to find - her Uncle.</p><p></p><p>Upon entering the potter's workshop, she was surprised to find that the man himself was, in fact, a small dark man with terrible facial scars. An illness in the man's distant past had left him blind in one eye, and unable to walk without aid. As Miss Imogen stood wondering what to say and covering her surprise as she was taught, the man called out to a servant, who came from a back room to help him up from his potter's wheel. Miss Imogen relaxed as she saw this servant, for though he was deeply disguised as a humble care-worker, she knew that this man, was the power behind the 'throne' - her Uncle.</p><p></p><p>With the help of his servant, the stooped man known as Pock-Marked Poe approached Miss Imogen and said, <strong>"What can I do for you today, my dear?"</strong></p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="FitzTheRuke, post: 7264336, member: 59816"] [b]Miss Imogen[/b] Miss Imogen left the Grand Souk and travelled up the widest of the city streets to the largest of the city gates. She worked her way through the crowd and through the gate to the Old City. Three ancient, vine-covered ziggurats towered above the district, which was a colourful juxtaposition of ancient and decaying (but still occupied) stone structures interspersed with flimsy new huts and longhouses of bamboo and thatch. In her short time in Port Nyanzaru, she had learned that the Old City was run by “beggar princes” in a mocking parallel to the merchant princes of the city proper. They had no official authority, but each of them sat atop a web of debts, favours, incriminating information, and loyal muscle that allowed them to get things done with an efficiency that the merchant princes sometimes envied. Unlike the merchant princes, whose positions were based on wealth that passed from generation to generation in the same family, the identities and even the number of the beggar princes constantly changed. The Old City was run-down but it wasn’t exactly a slum or a haven for thieves. Most of the residents were lower-class labourers or struggling artisans who couldn’t afford the higher rents of homes inside the city walls. Pock-Marked Poe was ostensibly one of these; a potter of some reknown. But Miss Imogen knew him to be something more, at once both a "beggar prince" and a highly-placed member of the international Black Network - the Zhentarim. Or at least, that's who she expected to find - her Uncle. Upon entering the potter's workshop, she was surprised to find that the man himself was, in fact, a small dark man with terrible facial scars. An illness in the man's distant past had left him blind in one eye, and unable to walk without aid. As Miss Imogen stood wondering what to say and covering her surprise as she was taught, the man called out to a servant, who came from a back room to help him up from his potter's wheel. Miss Imogen relaxed as she saw this servant, for though he was deeply disguised as a humble care-worker, she knew that this man, was the power behind the 'throne' - her Uncle. With the help of his servant, the stooped man known as Pock-Marked Poe approached Miss Imogen and said, [b]"What can I do for you today, my dear?"[/b] [/QUOTE]
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