The Forgotten Realms brought to life! Designed for narrative-rich experiences in the Forgotten Realms setting of Faerun's Sword Coast. While the main focus of the world is Waterdeep, locations throughout the Sword Coast and outer planes are available as well! Including Baldur's Gate, Neverwinter, The Moonsea, The Outerplanes, and more! What was once a single city has now expanded to most of Faerun in this High Fantasy adventure of magic, technology, and secrets to uncover!
Played | 97 times |
Cloned | 25 times |
Created | 114 days ago |
Last Updated | 10 days ago |
Visibility | Public |
Coordinates | (-1033, 4958) |
Black Pearl Shipping squats at the edge of the Dock Ward—an aging, soot-darkened warehouse with salt-warped timbers and a rusted sign that swings in the sea wind. By daylight, it hums with the noise of crates and ledger work, hauling mundane goods under a legitimate charter. But after hours, the facade cracks. The floorboards conceal trapdoors, the second-floor offices serve as meeting rooms for enforcers, and the rear-loading bays double as staging grounds for illicit shipments. Inside, lanternlight hangs low, casting long shadows over the crates that hide contraband and weapons beneath false bottoms. The air carries a tang of brine, sweat, and oil. Enchanted locks and posted lookouts make it clear: this place isn't just for storage. Beneath it all, a stone hatch leads to a lower level used for interrogations and black market exchanges. Black Pearl Shipping is a mask, worn well, but one tug from the edge reveals the rot underneath.
Black Pearl Shipping is a weathered warehouse of black-stained timber and iron-braced stone, its slate roof streaked with gull droppings and sea salt. A faded pearl emblem hangs crooked above wide loading doors, the paint chipped and flaking. Crates are stacked high along the outer walls, some genuinely bound for trade, others deliberately staged. By day, the space is loud with dockhands and clattering carts; by night, it falls silent, the dim interior lit by shuttered lanterns. The windows are narrow, barred from the inside. Salt-crusted chains hang near the loading docks, and an acrid blend of tar, mold, and brine lingers in the air. Every corner feels watched, as if the walls themselves remember violence.