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Alliria
The Inner City was truly one of the most magnificent areas of any city Seretha had ever visited. This wasn’t the first but she was impressed every time. Annuakat was one thing - rebuilt from the war and trying too hard to look like the seat of power it was supposed to be for a waning empire which had never really waxed to begin with - and Vel Anir’s only impressive sight was its overbuilt walls constructed to protect against an enemy that never actually existed. Elbion was notable for something entirely apart from its construction and indeed from its near destruction with its floating islands of magic college, a college which was so sure of its own views on magic that Seretha could never attend it.
Alliria, though, was ancient, indefatigable, and finely wrought by the best architects in the world. Nothing quite matched it for scale and grandeur., certainly not without far more magic than had ever been put into it. The city was a testament to the works of the mundane and mortality, and that alone made it one of the most valuable gems ever cut and set.
Of course, docks were docks wherever you went. Some like Alliria’s were greater than others but it was simply a matter of scale over anything else. What made Alliria especially notable here was its access to the Bayou and the Akiva Sea and the ubiquity of ships for hire always in competition for lucrative contracts.
She was on her third ship looking for the right willing crew, speaking to grizzled human captain and his orc first mate. The human was one of the most skeptical men she had ever met, but at least the orc seemed to be up for the job.
“So, it would be on to Bayou Garramarisma, around to the southern coast, not quite into the Bayou itself,” she said. “I assume this much is fine?”
The captain shrugged and tapped a pipe he hadn’t yet packed or lit on the table. “Yea, miss, that ain’t the issue here. Dropping you off there, perfectly safe, decent trip time, worth what you’re offering. Staying there for days, though? Do you know what’s in those waters?”
She did, of course. The Bayou and its Crossroad Mire were well-known to people of her knowledge and expertise for a prevalence of necromantic activity, and only the Crossroad itself could guarantee it was of a safe variety. Sailors had legends and stories, though likely very little in actual experience with the area.
“Do you?” she countered.
The orc growled, her lip curling to reveal more tusk. If anyone had ever actually intimidated Seretha before with sheer presence, it was this densely-muscled hulk of a woman who towered over her. “We all know the stories and we all know when a story is just that. We know there are dangers and dark magic.”
“There’s no such thing as dark magic,” Seretha spat out before thinking. It wasn’t the time, but she had little patience for the oppressive language of mainstream magical thought. “All magic is destructive in the wrong hands.”
“Be that as it may,” the captain said, pausing a moment before continuing. “We can’t promise staying to pick you back up. If we get attacked by undead monstrosities, understand that we will have to leave.”
Seretha swore under her breath, but kept her smile and attempt at bright eyes and arched eyebrows to soften her more naturally severe features. “Okay, but that’s not a no, so I think we can work with this.What if you stayed in sight just enough and I can set up a signal for you to come in and grab me quickly. No lingering, just enough to pick up a rowed boat.”
“That might suffice,” the orc said. With a voice as stern and gravelly as hers, Seretha might have expected a bit more courage.
“But since I’m taking further risk on myself, I expect a discount on the upfront pay. You’ll still get a portion of what I find.”
They went back and forth for another hour before settling on price, timing, and expectations, but Seretha did get them there and the contract was signed. They were setting out with the tide in the morning. There was one remaining task: she needed help on the ground and the crew had refused to provide that in any respect. Crossbows from the deck to the beach were as close as they would ever get. With their fear of the undead, that was for the best in any case. She did have to consider her own shipboard safety and doubted she could fight them all if they decided she was too evil to continue carrying her around the sea.
The big problem there was whoever she got had to be willing to accept her magic, and broaching that subject was always a tense affair. The first step was finding potential hires and observing them. If they passed that first test, she had to figure out how to open up the conversation.
The Shallows were probably her best bet on acceptance, but the trust level would be lower with the kind of people to be found there. The Inner City was right out with its manor houses and private militias; the decadent wealthy surely were more likely to engage in questionable affairs and magicks themselves, but they didn’t like the public to find out such things. They had no reason to trust her to stay quiet, and there was only one way to guarantee she would.
The Outer City was her best chance with its down-to-earth, working class population. Easily frightened as a mass population, but individually strong and capable. There it would be just a matter of finding someone who seemed up for anything and relatively nonjudgmental. If she failed there, well… mobs of peasants were easier to deal with than squads of armed soldiers.
OOC: This is primarily intended for Argós as Seretha's travelling companion while she hunts for magical artifacts, specifically a set of knives with metaphysical properties. I'm going with Fable though in case anyone else sees something interesting they would like to engage with
The Inner City was truly one of the most magnificent areas of any city Seretha had ever visited. This wasn’t the first but she was impressed every time. Annuakat was one thing - rebuilt from the war and trying too hard to look like the seat of power it was supposed to be for a waning empire which had never really waxed to begin with - and Vel Anir’s only impressive sight was its overbuilt walls constructed to protect against an enemy that never actually existed. Elbion was notable for something entirely apart from its construction and indeed from its near destruction with its floating islands of magic college, a college which was so sure of its own views on magic that Seretha could never attend it.
Alliria, though, was ancient, indefatigable, and finely wrought by the best architects in the world. Nothing quite matched it for scale and grandeur., certainly not without far more magic than had ever been put into it. The city was a testament to the works of the mundane and mortality, and that alone made it one of the most valuable gems ever cut and set.
Of course, docks were docks wherever you went. Some like Alliria’s were greater than others but it was simply a matter of scale over anything else. What made Alliria especially notable here was its access to the Bayou and the Akiva Sea and the ubiquity of ships for hire always in competition for lucrative contracts.
She was on her third ship looking for the right willing crew, speaking to grizzled human captain and his orc first mate. The human was one of the most skeptical men she had ever met, but at least the orc seemed to be up for the job.
“So, it would be on to Bayou Garramarisma, around to the southern coast, not quite into the Bayou itself,” she said. “I assume this much is fine?”
The captain shrugged and tapped a pipe he hadn’t yet packed or lit on the table. “Yea, miss, that ain’t the issue here. Dropping you off there, perfectly safe, decent trip time, worth what you’re offering. Staying there for days, though? Do you know what’s in those waters?”
She did, of course. The Bayou and its Crossroad Mire were well-known to people of her knowledge and expertise for a prevalence of necromantic activity, and only the Crossroad itself could guarantee it was of a safe variety. Sailors had legends and stories, though likely very little in actual experience with the area.
“Do you?” she countered.
The orc growled, her lip curling to reveal more tusk. If anyone had ever actually intimidated Seretha before with sheer presence, it was this densely-muscled hulk of a woman who towered over her. “We all know the stories and we all know when a story is just that. We know there are dangers and dark magic.”
“There’s no such thing as dark magic,” Seretha spat out before thinking. It wasn’t the time, but she had little patience for the oppressive language of mainstream magical thought. “All magic is destructive in the wrong hands.”
“Be that as it may,” the captain said, pausing a moment before continuing. “We can’t promise staying to pick you back up. If we get attacked by undead monstrosities, understand that we will have to leave.”
Seretha swore under her breath, but kept her smile and attempt at bright eyes and arched eyebrows to soften her more naturally severe features. “Okay, but that’s not a no, so I think we can work with this.What if you stayed in sight just enough and I can set up a signal for you to come in and grab me quickly. No lingering, just enough to pick up a rowed boat.”
“That might suffice,” the orc said. With a voice as stern and gravelly as hers, Seretha might have expected a bit more courage.
“But since I’m taking further risk on myself, I expect a discount on the upfront pay. You’ll still get a portion of what I find.”
They went back and forth for another hour before settling on price, timing, and expectations, but Seretha did get them there and the contract was signed. They were setting out with the tide in the morning. There was one remaining task: she needed help on the ground and the crew had refused to provide that in any respect. Crossbows from the deck to the beach were as close as they would ever get. With their fear of the undead, that was for the best in any case. She did have to consider her own shipboard safety and doubted she could fight them all if they decided she was too evil to continue carrying her around the sea.
The big problem there was whoever she got had to be willing to accept her magic, and broaching that subject was always a tense affair. The first step was finding potential hires and observing them. If they passed that first test, she had to figure out how to open up the conversation.
The Shallows were probably her best bet on acceptance, but the trust level would be lower with the kind of people to be found there. The Inner City was right out with its manor houses and private militias; the decadent wealthy surely were more likely to engage in questionable affairs and magicks themselves, but they didn’t like the public to find out such things. They had no reason to trust her to stay quiet, and there was only one way to guarantee she would.
The Outer City was her best chance with its down-to-earth, working class population. Easily frightened as a mass population, but individually strong and capable. There it would be just a matter of finding someone who seemed up for anything and relatively nonjudgmental. If she failed there, well… mobs of peasants were easier to deal with than squads of armed soldiers.
OOC: This is primarily intended for Argós as Seretha's travelling companion while she hunts for magical artifacts, specifically a set of knives with metaphysical properties. I'm going with Fable though in case anyone else sees something interesting they would like to engage with
