Unionised - Sowing the Seeds of Justice

Chapter 1

A cool breeze blew in from the sea over the dusty desert city of Sal Salfaarim. Traders and mercenaries travelled the streets, selling their services and goods to any who would buy them, Sheikh's and Nobles, foreign dignitaries and guildmasters made their way around the streets as aimless as ants, movements seemingly random, yet each having a definite destination. Urchins and beggars crowded shady doorways and arches, staying out of the harsh morning sun, arms extended for donations of a few copper pieces. Guardsmen in their glittering mail marched in formation among the citizens who parted ways for the men at arms to move through. On the docks, ships sat moored with dockhands loading and unloading goods into holds. Iron and furs from the Frost Gardens, silks and dyes from Wuxia, salt and stone from Gorgritch, timber and food from Manorhall. All kinds of items; luxuries, basics, clothes and trinkets, food and instruments, tools, weapons and minerals, everything made its way into the Empire through this dock first. Garrick looked out over the dock from his home and smiled. He had so enjoyed his time on those big ships. Still, life stands still for no one, and his life was not with those ships any more. He stepped away from his window and set to getting himself ready.

It had been almost a year since the half-orc had started working for Kiran and his guild. He pushed his rippling grey arm through the hole in his waistcoat, pulled the brown cloth across his back and slotted the other tree trunk that was his arm through the other side. He had enough money to buy proper clothes if he wanted them by now, Kiran was a very fair employer in that respect, but in the heat of the Salfaari sun, it was unwise to wear too much, particularly for one of his bulk and warmth.

Garrick had been born in the cold reaches of Gorgritch, in the north, near the border with the frost gardens. His father had been an elf, a warrior who showed great prowess on the battlefield. So much so in fact, that when the battle was over and he still drew breath, Garrick's mother claimed him as a prize. Such things were not uncommon, though it was significantly less rare for a male warrior to claim females as opposed to the other way around. Still, Garrick's father, Te'Landuin, knew better than to try and refuse. Before too long, the two of them had spawned a number of young, of whom Garrick was the youngest.

Garrick pulled on his trousers, cut short at the shins to allow them to breathe and fastened his belt tightly. He affixed a knife to his belt and began to make his way down the stairs into the city. The sand was wonderfully hot on his feet, grains siding between his titanic toes, tickling the half-orc as he walked. This was a sensation he never could have had in Gorgritch, he thought to himself. He liked sand, the roughness, the coarseness against his skin, and how wonderfully clean it made him feel when he was able to wash it all off in a bathhouse. He meandered through the market, certain he had enough time.

The market of Sal Salfaarim was one of the most amazing sights in the world for Garrick. When he had first laid his eyes on it, he could not believe it. So many colours, so many smells, so many flavours, it was like gazing out on a patchwork ocean of coloured awnings, with countless tiny people running around hustling and bustling like a hive of insects. After nearly a decade of seeing this sight, Garrick never truly lost his love of it, and the market remained one of his favourite places to visit.

"Dates! Delicious dates!"

"Meats from across the sea, I have meats!"

"Fruit! Delicious fruit! Apricots, dates, olives, delicious food!"

The cries of the stall owners became a beautiful cacophony, an orchestra of blended voices and words that rang out over the bleached sand and stone of the city. Garrick's stomach growled at him in protest and he wandered through the rows of stalls. He turned to an old man with a messy white beard and a burnoose hat with boxes and boxes of fruits before him. The old man smiled a broken smile, missing teeth and all showing a life well lived.