Seas of Paradise: The Search for Ilma

Corosav

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a part of Seas of Paradise: The Search for Ilma, by Florenai.

The trade city of the world.

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Setting

Known for its many trade routes spanding to nearly the whole world, Corosav is a center of trade. Being in a decent location for trade, Corosav is where many traders and merchants reside. Prices fluctuate a lot, but Corosav has many markets that carry a wide variety of regions. It is also the capital of Renor. Its historic buildings are famous throughout the world. Such as The Caxabi or The Reon Tu. Consider Corosav like Arabia.

Corosav

The trade city of the world.

Minimap

Corosav is a part of Renor.

2 Characters Here

Leonardo "Leon" DiMarek [0] "I served my country as I saw best and was payed in shame. I shall redeem my name."
Jake 'Silver' Fletcher [0] Witty Midshipman of The Stormrunners Crew.

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Corosav was the home of... everything, now that Leon thought about it. If you wanted anything, just name it, and you could buy it. Sometimes the thought sickened him. In this land of consumerism it's about what you have and what others don't. Well, now that he thought of it, DiMarek had things others didn't here. Anonymity. He wasn't the Disgraced Captain here, he wasn't worth two gold and it felt good to be a nobody. He could order two mugs of grog and only drink one if he wanted. His small crew was probably out trying to sell the latest junk they had found off of the reef Foul Mouthed Pietro nearly sunk them all on.

Ah, Piet. Oldest member of the crew and the only one Leon DiMarek could trust at the wheel.... and even then the gray haired fool scared him sometimes. Where was that salty old dog anyway? Whoring it up again?

He supposed it was well within the man's right, he was twice Leon's age. Leon might look down on the practice of hiring prostitutes and their diseases, but he could also be looked down upon for never having lain with a woman. It was his choice. Being brought into the Navy at such a young age had given him little chance to woo a woman.

He leaned forward against the counter, looking over his second flagon. Suddenly he did not want to be in the tavern anymore, the smell of old puke in the floorboards and spilled ail on the stool. It made him sick. He went outside the hovel and smelled the sea air... and the other pungent smells of the docks. Maybe they'd set sail early, though news of any shipwrecks hadn't been delivered in the week the had been on shore. He was at his current stop, but it was far from home.



Corosav wasn't his home. Leonardo DiMarek had no home.