How Azural came to Baldur's Gate.
Posted: Wed Apr 04, 2012 1:14 am
Azural had traveled most of Faerun by his 28th summer. Athkatla to Neverwinter. Nashkel to Calimport. Thunderstone to Waterdeep. He’d survived goblin attacks, bandits along the Trade Way, and even a Zhentarim incursion outside of Daggerford. He’d buried friends and put enemies to the sword, but now he was alone. Most of his company had been killed by ankhegs as they were leaving Calimshan and he and the other 3 survivors decided to go their separate ways and look for work involving less time on the road. Relan Blacktooth stayed in Calimshan, Bordek the Gruff moved on to Mithril Hall, and Belldandy the Bard decided she would move on to Waterdeep. But Azural chose Baldur’s Gate.
He took what little coin he had left and bought passage on a wind-wracked, leaky ship called Ilmater’s Boot and set sail. It was a rough voyage around Faerun and up the Sword Coast, but they arrived safely enough, and Baldur’s Gate laid out before him, all the glory and stink, splendor and squalor that only a city its size could offer.
The docks were a beehive, noisy and busy and crowded. Urchins and beggars lined the streets, begging coin from sailors who withheld their copper and silver for the taverns and courtesan girls. A large half-orc dockhand nearly knocked him over as he carried a large crate to a warehouse nearby. This was like so many docks in so many cities, and the familiarity was comforting, despite the hectic throngs moving through the streets.
As he made his way into the Elfsong Tavern, the legendary song hung in the air, each note lilting sweetly into his ears. He bought a room and a tankard of Evermead and sat down by the fireplace, glancing up at the stuffed beholder mounted over the hearth. He listened, drank, and smiled.
This, he decided, was where he would find his fortune, by sweat and steel. This was where he belonged.
This was his new home, and he would serve it well.
He took what little coin he had left and bought passage on a wind-wracked, leaky ship called Ilmater’s Boot and set sail. It was a rough voyage around Faerun and up the Sword Coast, but they arrived safely enough, and Baldur’s Gate laid out before him, all the glory and stink, splendor and squalor that only a city its size could offer.
The docks were a beehive, noisy and busy and crowded. Urchins and beggars lined the streets, begging coin from sailors who withheld their copper and silver for the taverns and courtesan girls. A large half-orc dockhand nearly knocked him over as he carried a large crate to a warehouse nearby. This was like so many docks in so many cities, and the familiarity was comforting, despite the hectic throngs moving through the streets.
As he made his way into the Elfsong Tavern, the legendary song hung in the air, each note lilting sweetly into his ears. He bought a room and a tankard of Evermead and sat down by the fireplace, glancing up at the stuffed beholder mounted over the hearth. He listened, drank, and smiled.
This, he decided, was where he would find his fortune, by sweat and steel. This was where he belonged.
This was his new home, and he would serve it well.