Lork the former capitol of illicit gambling, drugs, and whatever else was a city under lock and key. An apparent uprising had started from Lork and been crushed shortly thereafter leaving the city under the direct control of The Red Hand (where as previously it was kind of independent of the Red Hand despite being in their territory). This surprised my companions, which told me someone in Zorn didn't bother to check and see if Lork would be the same city they were used to traveling to (can't really blame them honestly who would assume someone would use a gambling city to plan strikes on other parts of the world from!)
Unfortunately since there were no idiot gamblers looking for magical trinkets we were kind of out of luck offloading our wares to these people. Which cut into our profits, there was talk of going to Regor to try and sell them, but no one in Regor has any money, certainly not enough to afford magical trinkets at marked up prices. Defeated by government we found our way to one of the few inns left open (the rest were shut down pending investigations, these investigations I heard took years to actually come about).
We decided in the morning to set out for Rosettia hoping that someone there would be interested in the magical trinkets and other baubles or at the very least someone would point us in the right direction (there are other cities out there, but traveling to them with our wagons required paths and less dangers on the road, which eliminated a few of the options right away). And so it was that we set out for Rosettia without the money we were hoping for, and for me it was the last time I set foot in Lork or Zorn for going about a hundred years. Why is that? What could possibly happen that would make me do that? Tommorrow little journal, as always I'll tell you tommorrow.
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