Starting Date and Time: 20th Day of Mauven, 300 DM, 21st Stretch, Evening
Starting Location: High Shores Pub, Azure Strand
CS URLs: SaierunThe High Shores Pub was the watering hole most favored among the natives that preferred life at sea. While Azure Strand was no longer the epicenter of naval trade, having lost that when the other nations crumbled during the Death of Magic, it still had quite the fishing trade. Gus, the proprietor, built his pub upon the docks. The lapping of the waves, the smell of the sea, and the convenient location made it rather popular. It was rickety, made almost completely from the scraps of crashed and abandoned ships.
It was another busy evening, Gus looking out over his crowds cheerfully. Just like everyone else in this forsaken village, himself included, they were all poor. But over a pint of swill, and that is most certainly what Gus served, that was all forgotten. He hoped they didn't get especially rowdy tonight, he was running low on stools. His gaze passed over to a few men and women in the corner, all looking worse for wear, covered in bruises, cuts, and other assorted wounds. They were part of a fishing crew, and had been attacked when returning to the docks earlier today. The knights didn't maintain a large presence in Azure Strand, predominately because of how little benefit the village provided the capital. Too poor to matter.
So that left it to the people to police themselves, which more often than not led to nothing but vengeance after sated vengeance until everyone was dead. And these hadn't even been the first fishermen to get attacked when docking, several had been in the last few months. It was becoming a real problem, despite the fact that no one had ever actually died. Gus had been asked by Stannick, the leader of the most recent crew, to help find someone, anyone, who could help. So Gus kept his ear open, always looking for an eager, capable man or woman to solve this little problem of theirs. After all, grateful people always paid, either in gold or favor.
