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Her Majesty, Queen Iordis II of Arlon, falls into the same category as many absolute monarchs—corrupted by power, she desires as much of it as she can attain. Arlon's resource-rich lands and seas, as well as its bustling economy, allowed her mother power and influence to increase, but as a modestly sized coastal country, she had little chance of expanding her influence within her borders. Rather begin a needless war with the surrounding countries, she pumped all of her funds into the nation's Navy, and basically assumed the role of international police as a token gesture to larger countries whose naval forces are considerably less influential.
Iordis I offered protection from both piracy and natural dangers, as well as reimbursment for goods up to a certain amount, to all ships willing to pay a small yearly fee. In addition to this fee, large ships from countries allied with Arlon militarily are required to serve a one to three year term during wartimes, assuming that their homeland has not passed specific edicts of neutrality.
Discontent with this system brought about the initial incarnation of the Free Trader's Guild, a coalition of ships and crews (pirate or otherwise) which either refused to serve under the Queen's Navy under any circumstance or did not want her intrusion in their "trading" affairs. Free Traders were not hunted by the Queen's Navy, but were not given protection the protection of other ships in the Merchant Marine.
The Sea Wolves were also formed around this time, though they were far more aggressive than the Free Trader's Guild in their opposition to Iordis's Navy, attacking Navy-employed privateers freely and openly. Many ships that enlist with the Sea Wolves function only as pirate ships, and will attack even other Sea Wolf ships if the goings get tough. Even in the days of Iordis I, any ship flying Sea Wolf colors was to be attacked or apprehended on sight.
Thirty years ago, after the death of Iordis I and the rise of her only daughter to power, Arlon's Royal Navy grew considerably more agressive towards piracy, going so far as to attack Free Trader ships without due cause on simple suspicion. With increasing violence being done upon them, the Free Traders changed tactics and resorted more often to arming their ships and pirating ships enlisted with the Merchant Marine as an act of rebellion. Though piracy has always existed on A'erlon, it grew far more prominent in the first twenty years of Iordis II's reign.
Ten years before our story begins, nearly every ship in the Free Trader's Guild was a pirate vessel, either by choice as an act of rebellion or by force of circumstance, as scrupulous transactions were made increasingly harder by the persecution of Her Majesty's Navy. Those that had not gone pirate had likely relented and enlisted with her Merchant Marine. This was the peak of piracy on A'erlon and the beginning of a vigorous battle against it, culminating in the death of the prominent Free Trader captain Evander Augustine.
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"Ahh, Gods why hast thou forsaken me?" Roderick cried theatrically to himself. Shouldering his mead skin and making his way towards the bustling bidding floor.
The crowded meeting houses of Puerto Del Sol were often full of people who couldn't afford what was on offer. The same was true for Roderick Glover, who may as well have been a ghost for all the attention he was attracting. It was always the same now, same people, same places, same routine. He hated it but maybe, just maybe he'd strike lucky tonight. Passing through the crowd Roderick made his way to the bidding floor; pirates were shouting jovially, it disgusted him. Why they would waste their money on such useless contraband when there were poor and needy pirates, scrounging for a living. Hopefully however he would be able to liberate a few of the richer buccaneers of some loot tonight and be able to find some mead somewhere.
Quietly walking, making sure not to push or shove anyone, Roderick's eyes darted about the room. There were a few targets tonight, but also a few people to watch out for, among them a woman propped up against the barrel who seemed to be conversing with some brigands. The woman quite frankly scared him and he felt much safer avoiding her side of the room altogether. Now, time to find a target, a task which didn't take Roderick long. Years on the street had taught him to look for conspicuous people as possible targets. In this case it took the form of an expensive looking man facing the bidding floor and laughing merrily, distracted, vulnerable. Easy Pickings. As his hand extended to start carefully untying the man's money sack, he caught the view of the woman in the corner of his eye and froze.
"Enough dawdling idiot, start stealing" He thought angrily, wondering why he couldn't quite get her out of his mind. There was something about her; she gave an air of not being the kind of lady to cross; a statement which was readily enforced by the presence of the 4 brigands. Who seemed to be looking more and more imposing by the minute, or trying at least. Roderick scalded himself again, snapping himself out of his statue-like state. His hands worked fast, despite the leather gloves, years of practise had made him proficient in tying and more importantly untying all manners of knots and chains. A few seconds passed until he finally managed to open the bag, from it he scooped a few coins from it and left without the man being any the wiser.
Darting away from the crowd, he quickly counted his coins which roughly totalled the amount of a refill of his skin or courtesan, plus change.
"Fate you fickle friend!" Roderick cackled, trying to keep a lid on his happiness. This warranted a drink, but a man should never drink alone, and the poor company of these pirates simply wouldn't satisfy him. No he would need to find a woman to share the evening with before the night was over. Scanning the edges of the room he found a boyish, brown haired woman looking disappointed, sad and most of all bored. Again, she looked like an easy target. But there was something more to her, the sunken eyes, and gaunt cheeks screamed that she had a need for mead, at least she looked like that to Roderick.
Trying to muster as much of a strut as he could, Roderick managed to navigate over to the lady, tapping her on the shoulder and shaking the ale skin.
"You look troubled m'girl, it seems to me you need a drink. Come join me! A problem shared is a problem halved you know!" Roderick said, rather fast and as confidently as he could. There was something strange about this lady, she would be different, he could tell.
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