Thread: To Stem the Tide of War :|: BD~Haru :|:

Harrow , a world as diverse as the races and species that populate it. The human empire is ever expanding, encroaching now even on the ancestral lands of the elves and dwarves. Tensions are high across much of Harrow. At the same time the world is seeing prosperity unlike any other time in history. With the discovery of magicite, humans and other races are now able to compete with the elder races not only with magic but in technology as well. The elves now hide where they can while human cities pop up all over Sylvanyr. The dwarves' own homeland of Gnyr Shalorn is seeing human cities being built as well, though the immense mountain range is still a bastion of dwarven might and heritage. As always, the Pneumafera stay upon their immense flying islands. Rather, most of them do. A few elect to depart those lands and make their way to the mainland below. Finding work is not terribly hard, and though many regard them with suspicion, many also see the benefit to hiring one of the 'fera. So it was that Draavek found himself in such a situation. The wolf found employment easy enough, some businessmen valuing the speed, strength and instinct he brought with him as a guardsman. Still others trusted Draavek with their shipments entirely, giving the 'fera small but valuable cargo that he could carry on his person. Medicines and various other things for the most part. That was how he found himself in the situation he was in now. A valuable lot of medicinal herbs, dried and packed carefully in his pack, had been discovered by one of the few road patrols. The herb had been collected deep in Ydalir Forest in Valgaard. Taken west to Nyrath, Draavek had met with the supplier and herbalist there, intent on traveling south along the river. The final destination was supposed to be Reyksalar, but along the small river road he'd been intercepted. The road patrols were really nothing more than bandits, some of them truly troopers of the growing empire, but more often than not simply thieves looking to make some quick cash. Draavek could have slain them, but then, that was a sure way to draw his own death warrant. Most viewed the 'fera as little more than animals and would take any opportunity they could to put one down. And likely never even get scolded for it. Surrender had not been his desire, but his chances to escape became more slim as they called in reinforcements. Now thy were headed to Reyksalar by airship, Draavek now bound with runed irons that forced him into a more manageable human form . He had little choice in the matter, and felt uncomfortable in the human skin, but he could only hope his lot would improve once they reached the city. Reyksalar was a port city, both for sea-going vessels and for airships. Sitting at the mouth of the Straight of Turgai, it is just across the river from the elven kingdom of Sylvanyr as well. Known as a peaceable city, it has kept its neutrality and welcomes all races. The airship that Draavek now finds himself on is an older model, a dirigible type of ship, with a huge white air-filled balloon keeping aloft a sailing sort of ship. It was serviceable sort of ship but quickly falling out of fashion. One did what one must though, and by now Daarvek had caught sight of the Captain of the vessel once or twice. An older half-orc by the name of Grumpsh , he seemed to lean more toward orc than human, but who was Daarvek to question? He'd had very limited interaction with the orcish being, and had kept his head down, waiting and looking for an escape. All he knew was that it had been fortuitous that they'd headed to Reyksalar, and Draavek knew he was supposed to deliver the product to one of the well known apothecaries. Now if he could just get free somehow.. Grumpsh called out as Reyksalar came into sight and soon the crew was bustling and getting ready to come into port. Lines were thrown and soon the ship was coming to a halt. What about this one? a crewman asked, jerking a thumb toward Draavek. Grumpsh rubbed his chin. Ain't nobody gonna miss 'im. Take 'im down t'ol' Nym's place. I bet 'e c'n think of a use f'r one o' dem. Prolly put 'im in the Pits. Draavek's eyes narrowed at that. The Pits were an underground fighting arena, where his kind were highly prized. They were completely illegal of course, but that wouldn't stop them from making some good coin off him. On the other hand they'd have to prove he was a pneumafera and that would require them removing the shackles. He just had to wait for the right moment... Soon he was led off the ship and down the gangplank to the airdocks. They'd wrapped him in a hooded cloak, clasped it and led him along the wooden walkways. He hardly even drew a look, which was an odd feeling since just about everywhere he went people would stare. Of course that was when he was eight feet tall and covered in fur. This form was just barely over six feet in height and human, so it only got a glance or two. Draavek realized how hungry he was as they walked into one of the bazaars just off the docks, the area full of the smells of food, which was underscored by the smell of the city itself. Still, the spiced foods made his mouth water and it seemed he wasn't the only one as their small group approached a vendor selling various meats. Draavek's mouth began to water, and he could only hope that they might be merciful and buy him something. Little did he know that across the way there was a rather fetching red-headed half elf. One that worked for the apothecary that Grumpsh and his men would be bringing the wares he was supposed to be delivering. The small apothecary stand was not the mainstay of the business, but instead offered a few healing droughts and various ingredients to brew home remedies. Alchemy was a niche market, to be sure, but sometimes a good old-fashioned remedy was what was needed and got rid of some of the worst maladies easier than even magic.