The Jeffinator
Captain Manbeard
- Joined
- Mar 13, 2005
- Posts
- 8,365
It was a quiet afternoon in the fields of Morsimar. The Sun was shining above and the sky was blue, a light breeze rustling the trees along the West Merchant Highway. It was one of three major trade routes that started in Archimedes, the capitol city of the Federation of Free Cities. But the term “free” only applied to humans. Lesser races such as Halflings, Goblins, and Kobolds were only allowed inside the Federation as slaves, and if they ever ran from their masters or were not owned and represented by a federal citizen, they were labeled as illegal immigrants and either reconditioned and sold at a slave auction or executed. They were never deported, so if one escaped with the hope of returning to their home land, they had to make it beyond Federation jurisdiction without getting caught.
Most of the elves and dwarves had left Federal-controlled lands centuries ago, so the government was controlled solely by humans who sat on the Grand Senate, with one Senator representing each of the major city-states and the surrounding areas, called Regencies. Each Regency was governed by a local Regent who worked hand-in-hand with their Senator to communicate the needs and desires of their realm to Archimedes.
Thoughts of these and other matters flowed through Darbin Crest's mind as he rode his horse and small wagon along the West Merchant Highway. A few weeks prior he had departed from Archimedes, following the road west out of the Federal District, through the Spineback Mountains, over the northern-most point of the Havassa Desert, and then into the fields of Morsimar, where he was currently. This path continued on around the massive Laguna Lake, through the Ridgerock Mountains, and then straight to Hedenport on the west coast, which was Darbin's final destination on this particular trip.
The other two major Highways traveled north and south along the east coast, as Archimedes was a part city as well as the capitol. One path ended at Mount Blackstone – an underground prison and labor camp in the desolate and icy Farnorth – while the other path eventually curved around the southern edge of the Havassa Desert and then went south through the Stormlands before stopping at South Gate, beyond which was the swamps of Greymarsh, considered a wild area full of roaming monsters and evil spirits. Many slaves hoping to escape the Federation had fled into Greymarsh, where they knew their masters would not follow. They were then free, but soon after became meals for the swamp beasts.
Darbin had never participated in the slave trade himself, feeling that a worker was more honest if he was paid rather than forced. On the other hand, he had also never felt the need to stand against it, and while he did treat the lesser races with kindness and respect, he also knew he was superior to them and would not stand for slaves thinking they deserved equal rights. He would usually say something along the lines of, “You deserve to be treated with kindness and respect, but only so long as you know your place and do your duty. I have no sympathy for a disobedient slave who is not grateful that their human masters gave them life instead of death.”
As the wagon continued along the road, Darbin kept his hood drawn and observed the other people coming and going along the path.
http://i120.photobucket.com/albums/o178/TheJeffinator/Ezio-Revelations_zps2seiumuv.jpg
Upon reaching Laguna Lake, Darbin took one of the small side roads around the shore to a small village called Rookridge. It was getting late and he wanted to stay the night at the Inn. Once he arrived, he sat down and pulled back his hood, revealing slightly pointed ears. He was mostly human, but one of his ancestors was an elf and that particular trait had remained despite several generations of pure human breeding.
http://i120.photobucket.com/albums/o178/TheJeffinator/fd197a8cb51cb31e2a081203a6526e7b_zps71dcbept.jpg
A moment later, a large, old, plump man came over and greeted him, and then assigned a young female Halfling to serve him while he was in the tavern of the Inn. He smiled at her and nodded. “Good evening, little one. I'll start with a mug of your finest ale. How long have you been working here?”
Most of the elves and dwarves had left Federal-controlled lands centuries ago, so the government was controlled solely by humans who sat on the Grand Senate, with one Senator representing each of the major city-states and the surrounding areas, called Regencies. Each Regency was governed by a local Regent who worked hand-in-hand with their Senator to communicate the needs and desires of their realm to Archimedes.
Thoughts of these and other matters flowed through Darbin Crest's mind as he rode his horse and small wagon along the West Merchant Highway. A few weeks prior he had departed from Archimedes, following the road west out of the Federal District, through the Spineback Mountains, over the northern-most point of the Havassa Desert, and then into the fields of Morsimar, where he was currently. This path continued on around the massive Laguna Lake, through the Ridgerock Mountains, and then straight to Hedenport on the west coast, which was Darbin's final destination on this particular trip.
The other two major Highways traveled north and south along the east coast, as Archimedes was a part city as well as the capitol. One path ended at Mount Blackstone – an underground prison and labor camp in the desolate and icy Farnorth – while the other path eventually curved around the southern edge of the Havassa Desert and then went south through the Stormlands before stopping at South Gate, beyond which was the swamps of Greymarsh, considered a wild area full of roaming monsters and evil spirits. Many slaves hoping to escape the Federation had fled into Greymarsh, where they knew their masters would not follow. They were then free, but soon after became meals for the swamp beasts.
Darbin had never participated in the slave trade himself, feeling that a worker was more honest if he was paid rather than forced. On the other hand, he had also never felt the need to stand against it, and while he did treat the lesser races with kindness and respect, he also knew he was superior to them and would not stand for slaves thinking they deserved equal rights. He would usually say something along the lines of, “You deserve to be treated with kindness and respect, but only so long as you know your place and do your duty. I have no sympathy for a disobedient slave who is not grateful that their human masters gave them life instead of death.”
As the wagon continued along the road, Darbin kept his hood drawn and observed the other people coming and going along the path.
http://i120.photobucket.com/albums/o178/TheJeffinator/Ezio-Revelations_zps2seiumuv.jpg
Upon reaching Laguna Lake, Darbin took one of the small side roads around the shore to a small village called Rookridge. It was getting late and he wanted to stay the night at the Inn. Once he arrived, he sat down and pulled back his hood, revealing slightly pointed ears. He was mostly human, but one of his ancestors was an elf and that particular trait had remained despite several generations of pure human breeding.
http://i120.photobucket.com/albums/o178/TheJeffinator/fd197a8cb51cb31e2a081203a6526e7b_zps71dcbept.jpg
A moment later, a large, old, plump man came over and greeted him, and then assigned a young female Halfling to serve him while he was in the tavern of the Inn. He smiled at her and nodded. “Good evening, little one. I'll start with a mug of your finest ale. How long have you been working here?”
