As we were being unloaded from the hull I was suprised by the ornate design of the knife piercing our burlap studio sack. With lightning speed the blade sliced open the wall and BukPung and myself were spilled onto the plush lavender silk piled carpet featuring the ensignia of the small nations royal family. Unfortunatley, so did the fifty eight pounds of urine, fecal matter, and spent cigarette residue, along with the stiffning corpses of our eight traveling concubines. They had served us well on the journey but now only added to the awkwardness of our situation as our appointed royal envoy explained to BukPung that he had been stolen at birth and bannished from his home land until the recent political revolution had created a demand for the return to their cultural heritage.
A huge plan had been concieved to bring him home but the eastern block nations had gotten wind of the plan and had demanded huge ransoms the country could not afford. Instead the nations honor guard had been dispatched to retrieve the young prince.
Confused, the young prince and myself freed from our shackles ducked out of the crowd and across the street to one of the wharf wattering holes to process all the information we had just been inundated with.
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