Benzor began as an outpost for reprovisioning the caravans and merchants emerging from the dangerous trek through Ornal Pass. The high through fare of merchants resulted in quick growth and Benzor soon became a major commercial center. The emergence of shipping guilds and the switch to trade by sea however, put a stop to the booming economic growth of Benzor, transfering the heart of commerce to mulrok island instead. Still, it was Benzorian entrepreneurs that pioneered the formation of the shipping empires. Most of the concerns which undewrite the shipping costs are based o­n Benzor, as are most of the captains and crews of the merchant fleets. Thus, Benzor by tradition remains the base from which the largest trading companies in the land operate.

From a thriving merchant community, Benzor has become the banking and investment capital of Nordock. To that extent, Benzorian money lenders have replaced the red dragon in the public conciousness as the symbol of covetousness and greed. “Deer meat for wolves, honey for bears and silver coins for Benzorian bankers” is a common saying among trappers, meant to represent the importance of choosing the right bait for the right prey. Regardless of the popular jokes at the expense of the Benzorian financial elite, their importance in the administrative machine of the land is crucial and this is possibly the reason why Galdor the Gold, the ancient guardian of Nordock, has chosen to make Benzor rather than Brosna his home. Due to the city’s greater proximity to Mulrok island and its fortuitous position near the o­nly approach for all ships coming from the ocean, Benzor is the first city newcomers to the land of Nordock set foot o­n.

A Story by DM Catapault

And so…you are finally in Benzor. Be it by boat, caravan or hoof, you stand on the docks lazily watching ships come and go, cargo-laden wagons plying trade between the cities, merchants hawking wares. You wander into the nearby saloon, but your pockets are nearly empty. A dwarf is telling tales of the road to the east. Goblins, orcs and wild beasts are rife out there he says, preying on the innocent merchants and bold adventurers alike. Not the place you want to find yourself alone. You look at your meek equipment and know that you would end up in a stew-pot if you went out there.

You leave the tavern of Salty Dogs, and see a huge dragon lazily watching people come and go. In awe you approach him, he merely gazes at you laconically. A temple and trade building stand to the north, vendors and cowled priests pass their doors paying you little attention. Dressed in bold blue, a captain of the guard walks by on his rounds. Benevolently he eyes you, smiling pleasantly and with a low chuckle he nods and moves on. Feeling a little worried you may have made the wrong decision leaving the safety of home you walk back to the docks. The wanderers and questers of this place look beyond you, far too powerful or grand for the likes of your company. But you know that it was a one way trip, you made the choice to lead a life of the adventurer. Several other folk are around the docks, looking rather like you feel. Rusty swords and cast-off armor, light purses and confused ashen faces. You form a little knot and strike up casual conversation as the sun begins to set. Dice appear and a happy game of ‘dragon teeth’ helps pass the time.

The guard captain sees your little band and walks over to watch your game. Declining a chance to make a throw at the dice he asks your business in Benzor. Shrugs of shoulders, a snippet of ‘looking for gold’ and he smiles. “You know, there is always a need for a sword arm here in Benzor, no matter how much rust it may carry, and often there may be reward for your bravery, no matter how fresh.” You all look up from the dice. He continues, “Take for instance our sewers.” He points towards the wizard’s tower. “Over there, just south of the tower lies the entrance to the sewers, loathesome rats and beetles have their nests in there and no matter how many are slain they keep coming out into the rank sewers that run beneath our fair city. The innards of the beetles give a price to potionmakers and the rat whiskers can be sold as well.” An aura surrounds this guard, you feel as if he is not just a warrior but a knight of a high order. He explains the city of Benzor in a way that after a few minutes you feel you know it quite well. You also feel as if he is directing an attention to each of you in turn, discovering secrets of your past, searching your soul. He tells you of orcs and goblins, bands of them, that have been taking camp to the east of the city. “There must be some leader, perhaps a foul orc shaman out there.” He explains and chuckles, “but I would nary advise you to try and take that task.” “To the west lies the slums of Benzor.” One or more of your group nod heads, “Yes, I grew up there,” one says.

The captain goes on, “The northern slums are filled with the poorest of our citizens, thieves, cut-throats, and the derelicts. In fact one of the bands stole a ring from me just a few days ago.” He scowls, “I would give a goodly sack of gold for its return.” He explains that many new folk take up hunting. Just to the east of the city are fields of deer and badger, hides and meat that can be used to fill the belly or be sold to the merchants. Night has fallen, and the guard captain prepares to leave your company to return to his rounds. “Oh, there is also a representative from the town of Trondor right over there,” he points to a man leaning against the wall of a nearby house. “Seems the town has a problem with another band of goblins stopping trade from moving. Trondor is far to the southwest, a long dangerous trip by land, but an occansional boat goes there from here. You may want to talk to him if you are feeling brave.” Again he chuckles lowly, “Mind you, if you go there you may not find a way back.” He bows and takes his leave. Through the gloom you watch the others silently. You don’t know these people. The dice lay unused on the cobblestones…

- DM Catapault