Karudinash, City of Rogues

Home, I remember my last journey there…

My cold, dead senses could smell the atmosphere and my feet felt the rotting floorboards of the dock through my boots. I stepped off the drakkar that had brought me from the Fleets and set off to meet The Rogue, my link to it showing me where to go.

I walk through myriad alleyways and back passages, the streets of the city like a maze. By The Great Below, the city is one big back street anyway.

Eventually I arrive at a tavern, my senses telling me it was the right place even as I saw a man thrown headfirst through a window. I step over his dissolving body and into the establishment. It’s crowded, full of those of the Pale drinking, gambling… actually, just drinking and gambling. I go to the bar and order ale, paying for it in the strange currency from the Vale. I wandered through the crowd, looking, searching… until I find a table in one of the many shadowy corners, a group of hooded figures sit there playing cards. I sit down and wait to be dealt into the game of poker they are playing.

The conversation ebbs and flows for what seems all night. We speak of all manner of things from our pasts and in turn I tell them all about the Vale. As soon as they heard I was part of the Forsworn and before I could mention the Sons all conversation ceases and I feel eyes watching me… for a brief moment, before all conversation resumes.

“I heard of your raid on Aarnholt. Very well done I must say, I liked the part about the burning” one of the figures at the table says.

“Er… thanks” I reply, palming an extra card in to my hand as I reached over with my robes and drop my bet for that round in.

“So, what brings you here? And I don’t just mean the city”

“I was told to come here, I’m looking for someone”

“Oh?” The figure said, appearing to look at me with interest beneath it’s robes. “And who could tell one such as you to come here?”

“Not you mate” I said, playing my hand on the table. A Royal flush.

Before I could say anything else, quick as lightning the figure leans forward and punches its hand clean through my chest. shock keeps my form from unraveling for a moment.

“You are a poor cheater my friend, but I do so like a man who can try. Makes me laugh, warms me poor dead heart it does. I think you’ll make a fine necromancer of mine, and who knows, perhaps you’ll become a better cheater because of it” it said, recognition dawning upon me just as my form unraveled and I travelled back to The Great Below for a time…