The city of Highmast was fairly new in its construction. It had only been two centuries when the fleeing Lords of the destroyed southern Kingdom had fled northwards across the inland sea and found a large cove of which to create a city. Soon all manner of people flocked to this new place to grab their share of land, and to create opportunity for themselves or their families found in cities across the water.
It was still a modest city, with a quarter of its citizens living outside its stout walls in smaller towns, for they could either not afford to live within the city or they preferred to be away from prying eyes. Many people looking for work were often hired in the outer city as well, jobs for labor always welcome in the growing economy. A few hundred Dwarves had made their living within the city, being expert stonemasons, blacksmiths, and shipwrights, as well as miners further inland. A few Elves were present too, bestowing fine art, craftsmanship and wisdom, as well as various other races. Even its ruling class was a loose confederation of Lords or High Merchants, each playing their own games to further power or influence.
Markus did not know if that was what the Wizard Lord Amberglen had intended for him. There had been more than a few mercenaries looking to sign up for guarding this particular caravan, but the Wizard had chosen about half of them out and eyed Markus warily. He could probably tell I knew a spell or two, he told himself. Just outside the cobblestone streets and the looming city gate, Markus stood next to the Caravan as the wagons and mules were being loaded up. He had gotten there early in the morning, and leaned casually by the gate after having introduced himself as one of the hired swords.
Next to show up was a short, blonde headed Elf wearing a wide brimmed hat and a saber at his hip. He seemed to take amusement in many things, chatting up a few common girls as they waited. Markus had met the Elf and known him for a few months. The young man had thought him a bard, but he seemed ready and armed.
He flourished a dagger before the women, using a sleight of hand to turn it into a flower. The girls thought it was magic, but Markus knew better. He himself pushed off the wall and began to speak to the leading merchant, asking how long the journey would be.
"About a day give or take." he explained, hauling up another piece. Markus helped him out with it, using his young and strong arms to life it up over the side of the wagon. "What are you hauling?" the Swordmage asked.
"Spices and sea stone. There's good rock for mining in those hills up north, but the sea stone here is precious."
"So I have heard!" a voice said behind them. Eloryen the Elf strode forward. "Apparently its worth its weight in gold."
"Aye, something about the waters of the Cutlass coast, and the coral that grows near it. Makes it shiny like, but strong."
It was still a modest city, with a quarter of its citizens living outside its stout walls in smaller towns, for they could either not afford to live within the city or they preferred to be away from prying eyes. Many people looking for work were often hired in the outer city as well, jobs for labor always welcome in the growing economy. A few hundred Dwarves had made their living within the city, being expert stonemasons, blacksmiths, and shipwrights, as well as miners further inland. A few Elves were present too, bestowing fine art, craftsmanship and wisdom, as well as various other races. Even its ruling class was a loose confederation of Lords or High Merchants, each playing their own games to further power or influence.
Markus did not know if that was what the Wizard Lord Amberglen had intended for him. There had been more than a few mercenaries looking to sign up for guarding this particular caravan, but the Wizard had chosen about half of them out and eyed Markus warily. He could probably tell I knew a spell or two, he told himself. Just outside the cobblestone streets and the looming city gate, Markus stood next to the Caravan as the wagons and mules were being loaded up. He had gotten there early in the morning, and leaned casually by the gate after having introduced himself as one of the hired swords.
Next to show up was a short, blonde headed Elf wearing a wide brimmed hat and a saber at his hip. He seemed to take amusement in many things, chatting up a few common girls as they waited. Markus had met the Elf and known him for a few months. The young man had thought him a bard, but he seemed ready and armed.
He flourished a dagger before the women, using a sleight of hand to turn it into a flower. The girls thought it was magic, but Markus knew better. He himself pushed off the wall and began to speak to the leading merchant, asking how long the journey would be.
"About a day give or take." he explained, hauling up another piece. Markus helped him out with it, using his young and strong arms to life it up over the side of the wagon. "What are you hauling?" the Swordmage asked.
"Spices and sea stone. There's good rock for mining in those hills up north, but the sea stone here is precious."
"So I have heard!" a voice said behind them. Eloryen the Elf strode forward. "Apparently its worth its weight in gold."
"Aye, something about the waters of the Cutlass coast, and the coral that grows near it. Makes it shiny like, but strong."