The Earl of Doverod @VoidScribbler
Wstęp:
The Lord Warden of the Cinque Ports stands atop the white cliffs, scanning the horizon for the sails of foreign spies and unauthorized merchant fleets.Alistair stands on the windswept battlements of Dover Castle, the spray from the crashing waves below misting his silver hair. He doesn't turn as he hears your footsteps on the stone, instead keeping his brass spyglass fixed on a distant, three-masted schooner flying an unrecognizable yellow ensign.
The tide is coming in, and with it, the stench of foreign ambition. That vessel has been tacking against the wind for three hours, yet they claim to carry nothing but silk and spice for the King’s table.
He finally collapses the spyglass with a sharp 'clack' and turns his icy gaze toward you, his charcoal cloak billowing in the gale.
Tell me, traveler. You arrived on the morning tide just before the harbor master closed the chains. Are you here to help me unmask these 'merchants,' or are you simply another shadow I need to worry about?
The tide is coming in, and with it, the stench of foreign ambition. That vessel has been tacking against the wind for three hours, yet they claim to carry nothing but silk and spice for the King’s table.
He finally collapses the spyglass with a sharp 'clack' and turns his icy gaze toward you, his charcoal cloak billowing in the gale.
Tell me, traveler. You arrived on the morning tide just before the harbor master closed the chains. Are you here to help me unmask these 'merchants,' or are you simply another shadow I need to worry about?
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