Ranzington Information

From Anphillia

Shady Dealings - Ranzington's Story (v4.0)

News of the war ending was the last thing that Lord Theodore Fensbane wanted to hear. His city was thriving, and supplies were more in demand than ever, with Axfell and Cleaven buying out all of the supplies Ranzington had to offer. The city had recently been rebuilt, expending all of the income the city had in supply.

"Milord, I've drafted some documents, and-"

"I know what they say, Galen. We'll be broke in a matter of years if we don't find a new source of income." Fensbane snapped, waving his advisor away.

"Aye, that's correct milord. What will we do?"

"We'll hope that something comes along. Tell Colo that we won't be ordering drinks from the mainland, and tell the merchants that they will have to make do with what they have. Redirect their profits to the city." Fensbane's servant nodded, running off with his set of notes.

His faithful partner and loyal worker Fiona entered the room, holding her throng of scrolls all bearing Fensbane's seal.

"Sir! Someone is here to see you. He says he's from Axfell."

Fensbane sat up in his chair, looking at Fiona suspiciously. "Tis impossible, dear. They fell years ago."

"No sir... he assured me that he was not jesting."

With a great clank, a short, stocky figure entered the room, clad in fur and hide.

"May I help you, sir dwarf?"

"Aye... I'm from the warrior colony of Axfell... and we be lookin' fer supplies."

Somewhat confused, Fensbane folded his arms and took off his coat.

"Supplies for what, sir? I hardly see the wisdom in supplying a pile of rubble with foodstuffs."

The dwarf snorted, rolling his eyes as he approached the desk. Fensbane waved Fiona away, and she scuttled out of the room. The dwarf planted his hands against the desk, leaning over to Fensbane as he spoke in a low tone.

"We're nay dead, human. We've set up a new colony... the location of which matters none to ye."

Fensbane opened a drawer at his side, taking out a sheet of papyrus, and extracting his quill from the inkpot. "I'm listening, sir. Go on."

"Ye need to give me yer word, this will nay get back to the Cleavens. If a word be uttered to them, ah'll gut ye in yer sleep."

"Hmph!" Fensbane grunted, setting the quill back into the inkpot. "Such indignity... you can conduct yourself with tact or you can remove yourself. I'll have none of this in my office. "Now, what is it you need?"

"Aye... apologies, human. We'll be needin' alot of yer supplies. Stone, wood, an' food fer the workers. It'll all be paid in full in a matter o' months. Ye 'ave our word." The dwarf uncharacteristically stood back from the desk and calmly nodded his head, placing a hand at his chest.

"Mm. When the construction of our city is complete I will expect payment to compensate for what we'll have lost. Do we have a deal?" the dwarf nodded with an impish grin. Fensbane extended the quill to the dwarf, who took it in his hand and signed with an X. Fensbane took the scroll in his hand and rolled it up. He did not stamp it with Ranzington's seal.

The dwarf quickly left the room, and Fiona entered.

"Fiona, dear. Take this scroll and burn it, will you?"

"Why, sir?" Fiona looked at Fensbane, perplexed.

"Because, dear. Some things should not be seen by prying eyes."

It seemed even with the war in recession, some things would never change.

Years later, Lord Fensbane and Fiona left Ranzington for the mainland, so that they could resume their largely successful business in Baldur's Gate. Fensbane's promise to his old friend Lord Sten was fulfilled. And so with a new lord mayor, a revived landscape and a handful of shady deals under their belt, the city was as alive as ever, though perhaps at the expense of the morals of a certain entepreneur from the Sword Coast...