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The docks are noisy, smelly, and dangerous—just what you’re used to from Minrathous. Ashur has to raise his voice to be heard over the rattling and thumping and the shouts of the stevedores. This close, you can feel the sound vibrating through the slimy planks and taste the salt that permeates the air.

“Smells like home,” Tarquin mutters to you. You don’t know much about Ashur, but you’ve shared plenty of pointed comments with Tarquin about the state of Minrathous and, especially, the state of the bits where they let the lower classes live. The highbloods are missing out, though. They’ll never see a show at the Cobbled Swan or eat something unidentifiable off a stick while watching fish flop helplessly about in a barrel.

Maybe it’s not exactly top-tier entertainment, but it’s the principle of the thing. If you can’t have what they have, then they don’t get to have what’s yours.

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