Plumes of smoke drifted up into the autumn wind from long, red-bricked chimnies as the last few carts rolled into the city's cobbled streets, the setting sun making the wood glow dark red for a few moments. A small girl of five watched them with a smile, before turning to the old man sitting in the corner by the fireplace.

"The sun's down, grandfather," she said eagerly. "Now can you begin the story?"

The old man chuckled, his blind eyes gazing towards the window. "Begin? But where should I start? With the cruel brigand king, or the lair of the tatzlwurms, their coils wrapped around all the kingdom, or the mad princess and her final stand? Or perhaps you'd like to hear me re-tell the story of the first Pirate's Council, or the War of the River Kings? The Pact of the Nomen Centaurs? You were always fond of hearing about the Flying Citadel?"

"No, grandfather," the girl said, her face serious. "That was mother who liked the Flying Citadel. I want the beginning of the story!"

The old man leaned back in his chair, his face growing somber.

"The beginning, eh? Those were bad times, child. Let's see...as I recall, it all started with a ship, and three very unusual passengers..."
This message was last edited by the GM at 05:59, Fri 04 Nov 2011.

Captain Niles Trotter peered through his spyglass, frowning. He did that more often of late.

"Aye, there's the Two Sisters, or my eyes be deceiving me. Prepare the boat, Mister Ainslee!" he called out, glad beyond words to see the rocky shoals ahead. He had lost four good men on this voyage already: two in a knife-fight, one to disease, and one to a monstrous eel-serpent that called the river home. He knew that the creature wouldn't be long sated, and had precious desire to remain in the cursed area any longer than necessary.

He turned to face his crew and the three "guests" upon his longship. He had been instructed to guard them as prisoners of the Duchy and keep them chained hand and foot at all times, but he had always prided himself on his good eye for people, and soon the three guests had been put to good use on board the Swallowtail. He was sorry to lose them now.

"Well then, Mister Manes, Miss Francine, Miss Desra, here's where we be parting ways!" he called out. "It's a hard two days' ride to Oleg's Trading Post, but it's the closest the Stolen Lands have to a friendly stop for honest travelers like yourselves. Come, see me in my cabin while my boys prepare your things. I'll answer any questions about the land ye might have. 'Tis the least I can do, after all you've done along the journey."

He stepped into his smoky cabin, waiting for the trio to follow.

Girard looks over at the captain while he finishes coiling some rope.  Putting the coil down he stretches his back, bulging muscles glistening with sweat from a hard day's work.  Waving greetings to some of the sailors he was passing by, he headed to the captain's quarters.

Though glad to be off the ship, melancholy struck Girard as he had come to like the crew.  A stalwart lot, hard working, hard drinking, hard swearing, but above all, honest.  Reminded him of his companions in the arena.

"Captain Trotter?"  Girard called out as he knocked on the door and entered. "Seems we've reached our destination.  I thank you for gracious hospitality onboard your fine vessel.  I was worried that I would have had to spend the whole journey locked up like some beast.  Again, you have my gratitude." Girard beams a smile.

Girard waits for the other members of his rag-tag band to enter, before asking, "What can you tell me of Oleg's Trading Post?"
This message was last edited by the player at 08:02, Fri 04 Nov 2011.

Desra tied off a bit of rigging, green eyes looking over her shoulder at the Captain after he called for her and the others.  A few words were given to one of the other crew working those high ropes before she shimmied down a rope and onto the deck, wiping her greased hands off on her leather breeches.

She didn't much like being a deckhand, but preferred it over the alternative of being chained below deck for most of the voyage.

Nimble steps carried the elven woman behind Girard as he made his way into the Captain's quarters, and she stepped out from behind him, her arms folding over her stomach with her hands gently clasping her elbows.

"Gracious is one way to put it.  Certainly, I enjoyed the trip much more once I was out of irons.  Still, you'll be short-handed for your trip back, won't you?"

In reply to Akal (msg #2):

Francine is in rather sicken state. She does not do well on boats and was uncomfortable all the way through. She checks her horse to check to see if she had been doing better. and signal the crew to get her horse on the land as well as her cart. Based on the equipment brought, it is easy to tell she expected the travel. She changes to her clean journey clothes and comes out smiling. She greets the crew and hands out cards.

She finally decides to go to the captain's cabin.
as she strolls in she says
"I would also like to thank you for believing my story. I really think you should talk to the person you get your information from. Chaining up volunteers is unwise. Had I taken it more personally, I would have taken my things and left. I also noticed your ship lacks gun powder weaponry. The Cannon is rather new invention it is a huge version of the musket you saw. A cannon will penetrate the thickest hulls and out range any bow and arrow. Few mages can equal its destructiveness. It is easy to learn and easy to use."

She hands over a card to the captain.

"This is my card. It will give you directions to my family's gunsmith shop as well as give a Francine discount. My brothers will take care of you. Ask for the model "Samson". It is our top of the line."
This message was last edited by the player at 01:15, Sat 05 Nov 2011.

The captain accepted the card graciously, putting it next to his charts.

"A cannon would be fine indeed," he said, smiling broadly. "Still, it's men I need for this trip back, as Miss Desra has said. We'll be short-handed indeed, but with the grace of Desna we shall manage."

"Oleg's Trading Post? Tis a tiny room and board run by old Oleg and his wife. They have a small stock of supplies, a few warm beds, and nets and nails and such for the few trappers and explorers that come through the area. Rumor has it that Oleg set it up because he's on the run from the law, but my hunch is that he did it simply to get away from people. Not much of a social animal, that one. Still, you'd do well to get on his good side - friends in the Stolen Lands are few indeed."

In reply to Akal (msg #6):

"I have heard the stolen lands are very dangerous. What dangers should we expect on our travels toward this trading post. I also am unfamiliar with the terrain. Do you have a map I can use or copy off of?"

Captain Trotter patted the sides of his beloved moustache thoughtfully, considering the question.

"Well, the biggest danger is likely to be bandits, I suppose," he said. "If you follow this river towards Oleg's, you're likely to run into more of the same of what we saw or avoided on the way here. Eel-serpents, lizardfolk, gators, maybe a scrag or two."

"If you strike out through the forest, odds are you'll run into worgs, or some Greenbelt megapedes. And the fey, of course. Grigs, nixies, boggards, will o'wisps - you name it, this forest will have it. Luckily, it's late fall, so odds are good that the owlbears and grizzlies are already hibernating."

"If you head out too far north or east of Oleg's, then things get a bit hairier. Hydras are common in the swamps, of course, and there's centaurfolk and drekaviks aplenty out to the north. In the mountains you'll want to beware of giantfolk, mostly ogres and ettins, but be particularly wary of thrawns, and carbuncles and trolls are of course quite common."

"I'm afraid there's no map I can give you - we're sailing in uncharted waters at the moment. But Oleg’s Trading Post is located at the southern edge of
Rostland, and further south, I hear tell that the green line of the Narlmarches looms only a few miles away. Ye'll likely want to avoid the Narlmarches unless you have good reason to enter them."

OOC: Exposition hooo!