The burned out remains of a tiny chapel nestled incongruously beside a warehouse heavy with the reek of salted cod and pickled herring as Giles walked past wondering at its history.

Across the open square sat a group of fishermen eating black bread and brown cheese, a rather forlorn skald plied his trade for a few pennies outside the harbour masters office occasionally invoking a sympathetic coin but more often a hard crust or less wholesome missile was pitched his way.

Mangy dogs and rats almost as big sifted through the piles of refuse from the pickling houses;  a small shrine to what seemed to be a local saint sat outside the smithy was liberally decorated with silver coins.

The trip north by ship had been quite pleasant, the spring weather was warming and thankfully they encountered no storms on the way.

He had disembarked in Glissom relatively suprised by the size of the city and the quality of the infrastructure; his superiors at the abbey had seemed to be of the opinion that anything north of Clyster was lawless wasteland.

As he walked further into the city the smell of the docks faded away and he found himself gently climbing upwards along wellmade streets of stone, his practiced eye soon began to pickout sections of buildings undoubtedly of Selentine make.

As he inspected one of the walls two men dressed in plaid and maille approached him, their weapons still at their sides.

" Morning, Sir...Hearthwarden?...um..You, is there anyway we could be of assistance in your inspection of this residence?"

Colm is working hard as usual.  He feels like he is the busiest man in all of Glissom City, now that he is a professional Apothecary.  Colm is currently finishing of a huge batch of potions for his most prestigious customer, and is eager to see the result. 
The work has not been easy, with rudimentary equipment in what barely passes for a laboratory, it has taken 28 days of concentration and process.  It does not help that Colm's Patron and owner of the Apothecary Shop is a half crazed Albish Sorcerer, prone to carbonising unexpected visitors!

A cauldron bubbles away on the fire, as Colm polishes a newly made leather satchel.  Specially designed for the task, the satchel can hold 10 potion bottle in two neat rows of five.  The bottles themselves are of the best green glass available, with cork stoppers.  Once the potions are complete, and decanted into each of the bottles, the corks will be sealed with hot wax.  Colm designed the satchel himself, it being padded, waxed, oiled and secured with straps, the chances of accidental damage to the potions is minimised.

Colm can't wait to get back to his adventuring life, and is eagerly looking forward to seeing his old friend Brannon soon.  Brannon has been on an archaeological expedition of the Pagan Mountains, as any scholar with a passion for history would.

In reply to Giles, Colm, Kores (msg # 1):

Giles bows politely -“Greetings, why yes, I was admiring how portions of the old town have been built over by the new. The owner of this residence- do you know if he takes much of an interest in these matters? That is to say, of the goings on of the Old Selentine Empire up here in the north?”
This message was last edited by the GM at 10:44, Sat 05 Oct 2019.

The two men chuckled, " Old Gailway doesn't take much interest in anything thats not a bonny lass half his age."

One of the men mused, " You could go speak to them at the Temple, they've got records and such."

The other man suddenly grinned, " You know what! This way, up hill when ye get near top theres a shop...used to be a butchers or such..now it sells poultices and such."

"Theres this Albish bugger there, mad as a cut snake but I've heard tell he came through town a year back or so saying much the same as you...though not as polite...and some say he found what he was looking for."

Looking up the way the men pointed Giles could see at the crest of the hill on the left of the roadway a plain shopfront with a badly symbol on the bare wall that was probably supposed to be a caduceus but unfortunately rather resembled something a little more vulgar...

In reply to GM (msg # 4):

“My thanks to you both- you have saved a footsore traveller much searching!”

Bidding good day Giles walks up to the poultice shop they pointed out and, standing in the doorway, looks inside.
This message was last edited by the GM at 02:33, Sun 06 Oct 2019.