The Enclave of the Blue Pearl

An Ad in the Newspaper

Friday, December 14th, year 711 since the founding of the Empire. In the fifth month of the Civil War.

It was a cold evening in Port Haven, the kind that made one want to turn up the collar of one's coat and hurry either home or into the nearest door offering a warm fire. A large, bustling harbor city at the mouth of the Whanout River, Port Haven's life was an unusual and confused mixture of mirth in anticipation of the upcoming Winter holidays, and strife due to the civil war and the new year's mayoral election. This story begins in Jenkins Tavern, an old and well loved establishment on the oceanfront. There was a roaring fire on the hearth, giving off warmth and much of the room's light. There was a low buzz of conversation from the occupants of some tables, while others were content to sit quietly with their drinks or plates of food.

"Only a year since we were in the Tarkhanate, and now we're fighting each other," mused a dwarf, puffing on a long pipe.

"It's not a coincidence; it's a cause," replied a man with a scar across one cheek. "This civil war is almost directly caused by the failure in the Tarkhanate."

"That's right," said a man with a red face, swallowing a spoonful of lamb stew. "That cow Princess Josephina and her noble lackeys are using the weakened economy and bloodied imperial military as an opportunity to overthrow our emperor."

"What do you mean 'that cow' and 'noble lakeys'?" the first man said, somewhat angrilly. "I was saying the Tarkhanate War was Emperor Karl's fault; he just wanted to expand his power and win some glory to his otherwise unnotable name. And look what happened - around ten thousand men dead, including General Ulming, and the Tarkhanate has an even stronger hold on the South Sea trade than before! No, Princess Josephina Kaisar is the legitimate heir in the first place, and she is right to take back her throne."

"Josephina may have the bloodline," inserted the dwarf before the first man could snap back, "but Parliament instated Karl Hohenstaufen as Emperor, which they technically have the power to do."

"Legitimacy was tossed in the fire when 'the princess' declared war," said the second man. "Now that it's war, it's might makes right; and it'll further wreck the economy and kill even more men, I can tell you that."

A hefty man with a sea-worn face and an impressive brown beard sauntered from the bar to a table at which sat three patrons, holding a bottle. "Anyone want some? It's the finest brand!"

One of the persons at the table wore neat sideburns, a navy blue vest and a cravat, and a hand-and-a-half sword hung at his side. His name was Soren Tyto. He sipped his wine. "No thank you."

"I'll have some, if you don't mind," Ame Kuroi said. She was a small young woman wearing a black cloak. She had eyes that changed colour, long raven black hair, and a sweet, disarming smile, which displayed unusually sharp incisors. Robert Cuttingham uncorked one of the bottles and poured her a mug. She took a draught, and coughed. "Good stuff, Rob," she sputtered, grinning.

"Aye! Will you have some, Rudy? It's imported from the East."

The third man, Rudolf Barn frowned at the mention of the East. The word itself was bitter, carrying with it the pounding of cannons, turbaned riders with carbines and scimitars, poisoned oases, and fields of sand stretching to the horizon in every direction. "No thank you, Cuttingham." He managed a soft smile and drank from his tankard of beer.

"Aye, your loss, Rudolf!" He took a hearty swig himself. "Now, where was I?"

"The pirates," Ame prompted.

"That's right! So there I was, with the pirates on my port, the imperials on my starboard, and the contraband under my deck! A fine mess, eh! We couldn't outsail 'em; they were almost upon us. I knew the only way I was going to get out of it was if I managed to play them off each other. So, what I did was..."