While the current city of Freeport is only a few hundred years old, the site has been inhabited for far longer. Some two thousand years ago, this area was part of a much larger island known as Valossa. Stretching a thousand miles south to north and eight hundred east to west, Valossa was the heart of the empire of the serpent people. These sorcerous reptiles ruled vast swaths of territory when humanity was young, and pioneered magic and science when the elves still hid in their woods.
All was not well in the Valossan Empire, however. The serpent people had long worshiped Yig, the great snake god. But in the empire's latter days, a cult dedicated to the worship of the Unspeakable One, a dread alien power, sprang up in their cities. Called the Brotherhood of the Yellow Sign, the cult spurned Yig and embraced the madness of the Unspeakable One. The leaders of the serpent people, arrogant and vain in their high towers, allowed the cult to fester among the discontented. By the time the priests of Yig were roused to action, it was too late. The Brotherhood of the Yellow Sign enacted a ritual to summon their dark god, and the Valossan Empire was smashed for all time.
No witnesses survived to tell of the Great Old One's appearance, but evidence abounds of the destruction it wrought. Mighty Valossa was rent asunder, and sea water rushed in to drown the serpent people in their millions. Those who survived were driven mad, losing their civilization and magic in one terrible moment. Over 90 percent of Valossa slipped beneath the waves, leaving only scattered islands as a testimony to the once-great empire. The crazed serpent people fled underground, where their degenerate descendents live to this day. A very few sorcerers and priests of Yig survived the Unspeakable One's wrath with their sanity intact. These few retreated into the shadows as the elves and humans created their own realms. The centuries passed, and few remembered that the Valossan Empire had ever existed or that serpent people had once been civilized.
The largest surviving bit of Valossa is an island chain known as the Serpent's Teeth. The name may be a distant echo of the Valossan Empire, though locals ascribe it to the shape of the islands themselves. The most important of the Serpent's Teeth, A'Val, has a natural harbor that is easily defended. As humanity took to the seas, A'Val was quickly found by roving captains. At first, it was just a place to rest, get fresh water, and refit. Before long a village sprang up, and as the years passed this village turned into a town. It was able to thrive by offering services to passing ships and providing refuge for those unwelcome elsewhere. The sailors took to calling it Freeport, and the name stuck.
With its remote location and natural attributes, Freeport became a magnet for buccaneers. Before long they had taken over the town, which became a notorious pirate haven. What made Freeport work in the early days was a simple pirate code: Do whatever you want on the high seas, but don't go against your comrades in port. That meant no stealing, no killing, and no kidnapping. Duels did occur on occasion, but they were formal affairs conducted outside the city walls. Most satisfied themselves with drunken brawls, and of those there were plenty. By and large, though, the peace was kept in Freeport.
About two hundred years ago, the era of the rogue buccaneer came to an end. Lone ships increasingly faced threats from organized navies. At one time a single privateer could hunt merchant ships with impunity, but now it was a fox to the hounds of naval squadrons. As crew after crew was hunted down and destroyed, the pirates of Freeport knew they had to change their ways.
Freeport's captains realized that it would take a navy to fight a navy, so they decided to form a force of their own and then go raiding en masse. The only problem was choosing a leader. After much bickering, the pirates settled on two captains for the great fleet. Drac and Francisco were fierce rivals, and the assembled captains believed that anything the two could agree on would be a good decision. It was not an ideal situation, but the pirates had surprise and numbers on their side. The combined fleet went on a three-month raid that netted more money, valuables, foodstuffs, and booze than Freeport had ever seen. It was a spectacular success, and Captains Drac and Francisco were not slow in claiming credit. Before long, each had declared himself a Sea Lord of Freeport.
The next ten years were tense ones in Freeport. The great raid set off a panic among the maritime nations, which spent huge amounts of money and resources building up larger navies. The Sea Lords were forced to fight battle after battle against determined foes. Freeport itself was assaulted on three separate occasions, but its defenses proved too strong for the attacking ships.
This undeclared war had no clear victor. Freeport withstood the assaults and inflicted several stinging defeats on its enemies, but attrition was high on both sides. In the end the conflict petered out as the warring navies ran out of ships and crews to hurl into battle. After a decade of constant fighting, there was a long lull, during which each side licked its wounds.
During the war, adversity had kept the pirates united. When the pressure eased, however, trouble was not slow in coming. The Sea Lords had long hated each other, and this animosity flared up anew — with deadly consequences. After a series of provocations, real fighting broke out in Freeport for the first time in its history. The followers of Drac and Francisco killed one another in the streets, breaking forever the pirate code that had bound the city together.
Neither Sea Lord gained an upper hand. Before the conflict could be resolved, word came of yet another hostile fleet bound for the city. The pirates called a truce, and the fleet sailed out to defend Freeport, united once again— or so it seemed.
Captain Drac had realized that this ongoing war was one they could not ultimately win: The only chance for survival was to become a part of the world that was trying to destroy them. Drac entered secret negotiations with the enemy, using a wizard as a go-between. He agreed to betray Francisco in exchange for a truce and recognition of Freeport as a sovereign city-state. The enemy leaders were only too happy to sign such an agreement and end the ruinously expensive war.
With no knowledge of his comrade's duplicity, Captain Francisco led the fleet to the attack. Once his forces were engaged, Drac's ships simply sailed away, leaving Francisco's fleet exposed and without support; they were quickly surrounded and destroyed. In the meantime, Drac sailed back to Freeport to announce the new city-state and his new regime.
Captain Drac quickly consolidated his power. He declared himself the only Sea Lord of Freeport and eliminated his remaining enemies before they could organize against him. Some of the other pirate captains left Freeport rather than serve Drac, whom they despised for betraying Francisco and blamed for violating the pirate code. Most, however, seeing which way the salty wind was blowing, chose to remain in Freeport and ride out the storm.
As it turned out, Sea Lord Drac's reign was less bloody than anyone had believed possible. He ruled Freeport with a firm hand for the next thirty years, turning a pirate haven into a commercial hub of substantial importance. He set up trade routes with former enemies, cracked down on rogue pirates, and organized a Captains' Council. Drac's word was still law, but the Council was in charge of the city's day-to-day affairs and advised the Sea Lord on important matters.
Although Drac fancied himself a king, he resisted the urge to take the title. Somehow he knew that the citizens of Freeport would not accept something so contrary to their natures. Similarly, he knew that he could not found a dynasty. The Captains' Council would never submit to Drac's son, a mere boy who lacked the experience of those salty dogs.
But Drac needed to ensure the survival of Freeport as an independent city-state after his death. With melancholy in his heart, he chose another old hand, Captain Cromey, to be his successor. Furthermore, he even set into law a requirement that the Captains' Council approve the Sea Lord's nominee. At the end of life, Drac chose the interests of the city over his own glory, and for this he is remembered as a great man in Freeport.
The next hundred years were profitable ones. Freeport continued to grow, which necessitated building a newer and larger city wall. As new trade routes to the east opened up, the city became an even more important maritime center. Freeport was largely able to stay out of the wars that broke out on the continent, although it did cement alliances with several important powers. All in all, this was a period of stability and growth, with a succession of competent Sea Lords assuring the city's continued importance.
Things began to change fifty years ago, when a descendent of Captain Drac succeeded the outgoing Sea Lord. Marten Drac is rumored to have used blackmail and assassination in his rise to power, and he most certainly did so to maintain his position. Marten ruled for only fourteen years, but the damage he did to the city was substantial. A series of burdensome duties and taxes fattened his coffers but drove away many merchants. More ominously, he drove through a new law, over the objections of the Captains' Council, that required the Sea Lord of Freeport to be a descendent of the original Captain Drac.
The city was saved from complete disaster by Marten's youngest brother, Anton, who became Sea Lord on Marten's death. Anton Drac proved to be cut from the same cloth as his illustrious ancestor and was able to undo the worst excesses of Marten's reign. He abolished the unfair duties, as well as providing incentives to win back lost trade. He also provided limited military aid to several important nations, earning their thanks and their business.
Anton's one failing was that he did not abolish Marten's succession law. He was regularly urged to do so by the Captains' Council, but the Sea Lord could never quite bring himself to do it. Despite his enlightened rule, he did consider Freeport to belong to his family. This was to prove his undoing.
Eleven years ago, a great war broke out, involving nearly every nation on the continent. Anton stayed out of it at first, but he knew he would have to honor the existing treaties. He announced to the Captains' Council that the Freeport navy would go to the aid of its allies in the spring — the first time the full fleet had sailed to war since the days of Drac and Francisco. The Council was torn on the issue, approving the move by only a single vote.
Anton had allowed enough time for preparations to be made throughout the winter. Unfortunately, this also gave his enemies several months to concoct an ambitious plan. In fact, it was so ambitious that many suspected the plotters had outside help from agents of governments that wanted Freeport to stay neutral. Rumors continue to circulate to this day.
Toward the end of winter, as the Sea Lord was inspecting the fleet on the docks, a single yellow-feathered arrow flew from the crow's nest of an anchored ship, piercing Anton's chest. The wound should not have been mortal, but the arrow was enchanted with death magic. Anton died on the spot, leaving Freeport without a Sea Lord for the first time in two hundred years.
The assassin was cornered and killed before he could talk, and his body disappeared before priests could try to speak with the dead man. The Captains' Council dismissed the attack as the act of a lone renegade, hushing up its magical nature. The Council had more pressing business to attend to, namely, who would succeed Anton?
At this juncture, Captain Milton Drac stepped onto the stage of history. A distant cousin of Anton, Milton appeared as if from nowhere. He was not a member of the Council, but somehow he enjoyed tremendous support there. Those most likely to oppose him were strangely silent, as if they feared the consequences of such an action. In a matter of weeks, this previously unknown Drac became the new Sea Lord of Freeport.
Milton's first official act was to cancel all military aid to allied nations: The fleet was to restrict its activities to guarding commerce, nothing more. As war raged on the continent, Freeport stood neutral. This was a grave disappointment to the nations counting on its navy, who branded Milton a traitor. Some called him the puppet of foreign agents or a religious cult. Milton pooh-poohed these accusations and continued his rule of Freeport with little opposition.
After canceling the fleet action, Milton used the war chest to build a monument to his ambition: the Lighthouse of Drac. It has been under construction for the past ten years, on the closest island of the Serpent's Teeth. Meant to be one of the wonders of the age, the Lighthouse soars towards the heavens, taller than any structure in the world.
The Sea Lord's stated goal is to make Freeport the preeminent maritime power of the world, but the reality has fallen short of that ideal. The Lighthouse of Drac, or "Milton's Folly," as some have taken to calling it, nearly bankrupted the city. Taxes and duties have risen steadily during its construction, and an army of migrant workers was needed to finish the structure on time. It is finally approaching its scheduled completion date, three months from now. Milton is planning a gala celebration for its inauguration, and ships from around the world are expected to attend. This is an event not to be missed— or so Milton hopes.
Milton is obsessed with his Lighthouse, but the Captains' Council still governs Freeport. Their task grew more arduous over the past ten years, as more and more money was sunk into Milton's Folly. Services have degenerated: The garrison has shrunk and is largely confined to the Old City; the docks are policed haphazardly, if at all. Crime has skyrocketed, but as long as it remains in the shadows the Council is content to pretend that it does not exist. Known pirates have even taken to frequenting the port again. As long as they bribe the dock officials, they can enjoy what Freeport has to offer. Ironically, the city is returning to its roots.
