4000 years later, Current Era.
“Thief! Stop that thief! Help!” Thieves were common in the river merchant town of Rynwhere, as it is a prospering trade center of many riches and fat purses ripe for the stealing. This morning the heist was of particular importance, as the property stolen was more dangerous than anyone in the kingdom was able to fathom.
[Threyir]
I quickly dash down a dark side alley knowing full well it is a dead end and hope that the city watch do not. Nearing the end of the alley, I sprint towards a pile of boxes stacked against the far wall. Hitting them with speed, I jump, fly, and barely cleared the grey stone wall that separates the main merchant village with the dockside market. I land hard on the smooth cobbled street on the other side of the wall, my ankle twists with a jarring force that sends me tumbling to the ground. All I can do is hold a scream in. Slowly and agonizingly I crawl towards the side of the road. Thankfully, it is still early and it's a few hours before the majority of the populace will wake up and start their days. Holding back tears of pain and anger I know that I must bind my ankle if I want even a chance of making it out of the village on time.
[Raleigh]
The docks are quiet at this time of morning and I enjoy the aromas of exotic spices and meats starting to cook. It is only about an hour past dawn and I'm already looking forward to my mid day break. With a sigh of resignation I continue onwards, my heavy sack of salt slung across my back. Each step only brings me the smallest fraction of distance needed to reach the far end of the docks. As I walk I can see foods, items, artefacts, furniture, animals, weaponry and jewellery which are never found at the same place anywhere in the world but Rynwhere. Around me are the first merchants just setting up shop, and starting to loudly proclaim their wares. Unfortunately for me I don't have long to enjoy the sights and smells today as I have the laborious job of lugging 20 sacks of salt ,from the warehouse at the far end of the docks to a merchant boat proudly named “Silvester”. As of this morning I have only taken 3 bags of salt to the boat and have a long way to go before I can claim my forty Shiek and return to my quarters.
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Nearing the end of the docks, Raleigh approached the Silvester. The proud boat is newly built and a beauty to behold, from the foothills of the Dwarven mountains, dark stained Kumu wood polished to a shine made up the body of the boat. Fresh white sails bearing the purple and red family crest of the Lorenzo family, blows cheerily in the wind. As well as being luxurious, the boat was also practical. Only one stubby mast stood in the middle of the craft so the boat mainly relied on oars to take her down stream. For the journey back up stream, the mast was essential to make sure he would make good headway.
Mounting the gangplank I haul the heavy bag of salt towards the boat. Finally I reach and lower the salt into the hull until I hear the soft thump of the heavy bag hitting the deck. Satisfied it's secure, I turn and start to head back down the gangplank towards the now distant warehouses.