BFNT: Dondarian
Before you even approach the outskirts of the quaint but orderly military outpost turned town known as Dondarian, know that you are being watched. (Sorry, readers, but I couldn't resist.)
Now I'm not talking watched in the benevolent yet otherworldly manner of Rastein’s Bako Murti. More the far more commonplace manner, the kind you can expect in a small town with four, count ’em, four separate Crown Barracks. One of which is the largest in the region, housing at least three thousand guards (for the untraveled, that's just about one guard for every civilian that lives here).
And then on the south end of town, you've got Brother Cristos and the clergy of the Basilica of the Bloodied Claw shuffling around all over like they own the place. Let's just say that between the stomping of cheap boots on wet paving stones, cadence calls, clanging bells, and droning intonations, I'm actually finding myself longing for the hammering at the Rastein dig sites. At least they had a beat you could dance to, once you got drunk enough.
It was quite a pleasant ferry ride from Rastein inside the crate of onions that I found onboard. I had to dodge the bosun twice, and he only actually noticed me right as I was leaving, thank Sithir, and I got a nice snack.
Going between the two towns is also a great way to see the subtle differences between things like 'Religion' and the 'Divine', the organic vs the organized, the chaotic clumping of various necessities as they come up vs an orderly grid, laid down by orderly people who are obsessed with things like hierarchies and their place within them. Thank the gods for the Caravan, is really what I'm getting to, otherwise this town would be so… boring.
I mean, yeah, Dondarian is the “Gate of the South,” and between the rows of tents and boxes and various textiles covered in whatnot amongst the Caravan, and the rows of more permanent shops and stalls over at Purveyor's Plaza: if you can't find it in Dondarian, you need an adventuring party to go and get it.
But… the Merchant's Guild watches this city even more closely than the guards do, and you can bet they’re much more dangerous to tangle with. There's a good reason you can see the Chateau Druceff from any part of this town, and it's not just because it's the only building on Dondarian’s Nob Hill. We’re talking Old Money.
Before my feet even hit the dock, I was tempted to run and pick up a bowl of shrimp and grits over at The King's Respite. You can smell it cooking from blocks away. Sadly, as soon as I walked in, the whole place just felt… off. It's a nice enough place: big, clean, definitely moneyed, but heavy “Guard Bar” vibes, you know what I'm saying? It's worth taking a stroll by the place if you'd like to see some really nice horses… but, I mean, they're guard horses. At any rate, back to the meat of the thing. The meat. Where is it? I want it. I cannot find it. Nobody has it. Every stall I can see is hawking dried squid and fried fish. Just gonna go out on a limb, and say the taxes are likely too high on beef and pork for most common folk.
Apologies for a slightly meandering article this time, dear readers, but the grub here is generally middling. To my palate at least, it's a bit bland for your average goblin. The Merchant Guild never sleeps and the taxes on everything here are relentless. My pay advance is taking some serious damage. Plus, my occasionally-seditious ass simply does not feel very comfortable sitting around for long around this many armed and armored Crown guards. Gods, they're everywhere. Keep your eyes sharp, your ears sharper.
Before my feet even hit the dock, I was tempted to run and pick up a bowl of shrimp and grits over at The King's Respite. You can smell it cooking from blocks away. Sadly, as soon as I walked in, the whole place just felt… off. It's a nice enough place: big, clean, definitely moneyed, but heavy “Guard Bar” vibes, you know what I'm saying? It's worth taking a stroll by the place if you'd like to see some really nice horses… but, I mean, they're guard horses. At any rate, back to the meat of the thing. The meat. Where is it? I want it. I cannot find it. Nobody has it. Every stall I can see is hawking dried squid and fried fish. Just gonna go out on a limb, and say the taxes are likely too high on beef and pork for most common folk.
Editor’s Note: The Crammin Chronicler has no official stance regarding the workings of the Dondarian Merchant’s Guild. All theories posited herein and hereafter are those of the author, and no more.The Guiding Shepherd is certainly more inviting than the King’s (re)Spite. It’s warm, cozy enough, with good squishy chairs, a well-kept fire, and some outstanding decor. Readers, I wish you could see the size of this mounted wolf’s head over the mantle. But gods, the menu here is all barley and fish. Sure, they've got oysters on the half shell, grilled shrimp, and steamed clams as far as you can see, but since I got off that boat I have been absolutely hankering for a pork chop. So it goes. At least with all the barley, it's that good, stick-to-your-ribs kinda fare. And Mal Grevalds’ microbrew selection is extensive, had a whole flight, and they’re all pretty damned good. Credit where it's due: this man knows his booze.
Apologies for a slightly meandering article this time, dear readers, but the grub here is generally middling. To my palate at least, it's a bit bland for your average goblin. The Merchant Guild never sleeps and the taxes on everything here are relentless. My pay advance is taking some serious damage. Plus, my occasionally-seditious ass simply does not feel very comfortable sitting around for long around this many armed and armored Crown guards. Gods, they're everywhere. Keep your eyes sharp, your ears sharper.
And hopefully some meat next time,
Bok Globule
Bok Globule
24th of Opal, 5 UE
A fishmonger at the Caravan.
Local depiction of the Merchant Guild deciding their cut.
