-*- The Moirai Syndicate -*-
A Contract. It was perhaps the longest, most extensive document that had ever been presented to me. The unfurled scroll extended from eye level all the way down to the charred, bare soil that we stood upon. Wall of text after wall of ornately penned text, paragraph after paragraph of fine print, stipulation after stipulation in each Section. My aging eyes struggled to focus on each word as I attempted to take a good look at just what I was about to sign. A quill appeared before me in midair as my eyes scanned the parchment. As I plucked the quill out of the air and prepared to sign away my life with a stroke of the pen, I recalled my memories of the events that led up to this moment.
I was once a prosperous travelling merchant. I dealt in some of the more exotic goods that were in demand during the late Fifth Age. I travelled the dunes of the Kharadian Desert and the jungles of Karamja in search of the rare herbs, high level rune stones, exotic weaponry, and hard to find potion ingredients that my high-profile clients demanded. Much of my merchandise was not exactly legal. Some was considered outright contraband by the Kingdom of Misthalin, which was where I was based.
I had been exploiting loopholes and skirting around the law for too long. I knew almost every trick in the book to fool custom agents into thinking the leather pouches on my camel were free of irit tar, and that the sack that I carried on my back was free of blood runes. But one day, I screwed up. The Varrockian Guard caught up with me. The small fortune I had built over my career was confiscated by local officials and I spent most of my middle-aged years in prison.
"Aim high, and you can achieve anything." -Elfman
12-Aug-2015 22:33:09 - Last edited on 13-Aug-2015 01:23:40 by Gilla Noir