Old Pete smiles kindly at Darius.

"Don't ye worry, lad, I've seen plenty worse maps traded for gold just because they showed where some long lost treasure was supposedly buried, or the entrance to an old, forgotten gold mine, or some such thing. You just need the right story to go with your map. Some of the folk here in town used to be brigands in this area when the fort here was controlled by their leader, the Stag Lord, so some of them are likely to have a tale to tell about things that happened around here in his time or legends about things before that. The only thing I've seen that might be of any interest was the tracks of a giant stag beetle in the woods west of here. They are of no value in themselves but sometimes they become a real threat to logging communities and woodsmen because they are attracted by rotting wood. I've known of a bounty being offered elsewhere to get rid of them when they become a nuisance," he tells Darius.

When the poet passes their table he tosses a silver penny into the man's cap.

"Thank ye, young fella. That reminded me of many a walk with me ol' dad when I was just a youngster. I don't suppose ye know any tales of things that happened around here in the past, do ye?" he asks the poet.

"Giant stag beetles? Those don't sound fun, or sanitary," Darius mused. "I suppose it's a good start, but I'm hoping that when the expeditions return I can get some more useful information on here. A maps not worth a whole lot if it doesn't provide accurate information after all."

When the poet comes by, Darius also tosses a coin into his cap. "Yes, tales of this area would be interesting indeed," Darius added.

Pete's eyes follow the poet's gaze to the mugs of ale and he just grunts softly to himself before raising his arm to attract one of the serving lasses to order a mug of ale for the poet too.

"Sit a while with us and tell us what ye know, young fella," he advises the poet.

"I'll be back in  just a moment ...." the Poet grins, then continues his round of the other customers collecting what few coins that he can.  Returning to Pete and Darius's table, he takes a chair and then reaches appreciatively for the ale that was ordered for him.

"Busy in here tonight.  Gearing up for Harvestfest, I'll be bound."

Old Pete shifted his chair a bit to make room for the poet to take a seat at the table with him and Darius.

"This is my first year here, so I've not seen what passes for Harvestfest here yet. Something to look forward to though, right enough. So, what's your name, lad? I'm Pete and this here is Darius. Tell us a bit about yourself and how ye come to be here in Tusk Town."

Darius also shifts a bit to give the poet some room at the table. "This is my first season here as well, so I have no idea what to expect for Harvestfest here either. But yes, please, regale us with your story."

"It is new to all of us.  This is the first Harvestfest since Lord Henry won his charter.  But now that the harvest is gathered in, the first of the new seasons ales will be brewing, the pickling and smoking down for winter will be well underway, and soon it will be time to celebrate the fact that we are ready for winter."

Gaim offers before he takes a mouthful of his ale, then smacks his lips together loudly to show his appreciation of the drink.

"we've just come in to  town to pick up the last few supplies we need for the winter." he says nodding across to the table that Wyn sent the drinks to earlier.

"You're right about the ale brewing," Old Pete agrees emphatically. "I've got my usual Poachers' Pale Ale brewing away already and I'm experimenting with a dark ale that looks quite promising, too."

He looks at Darius's map thoughtfully before asking the Poet, "So where are you gents based then?"

Gaim points at a spot a few miles east of Hunters Rest, "We built that section of road , and the deal was that we could set up small holdings.  So  mainly got cabbages and eggs at the moment, oh and a few onions.  Otherwise we have to make do with what we can find.  There are some nice moon radishes up that way -  but we will be taking back some flour and dried fruits.  With the game we have smoking that should see us through the worst of the winter.  It will be easier next year, when we can get a few more crops into the ground."
This message was last updated by the GM at 18:06, Sat 12 Jan 2019.

Darius focuses on the section of the map Gaim points to, "So, are there any interesting features out that way? I'm trying to build as accurate a map as possible, and I'm always looking for help."

”Hills … and a road.” Gaim replies with a smile, ”A few passing elk, wild boar that tend to stay out of our way – and the occasional visit from a bear or a few mangy wolves. But other than that  not a lot,”  Gaim says with a shrug.  "Not a bad place to build a small holding, but not the best," he adds ruefully.

”So what do you guys do around here?” Gaim asks looking from Darius to Pete and then back again.

"Oh, back in the day I was a bit of a hunter, you might say. Some might have called me a poacher, although I'd say that were naught but a difference of opinion on whether I were within me rights to be hunting where I did," Pete explained to Gaim and Darius. "Don't matter now anyway 'cause now I'm retired and that were a long way away from here. I still go out and explore the local countryside a bit but mostly I stay around here and help the Roths where I can. They let me use a shed out back for brewing ale, which has been a hobby of mine for more years than I can remember."

Darius listens to Pete's explanation before responding. "I was looking for a change of scenery and found myself here," he says with a smile. "I try to do what I can to help people get what they need, or connect them to people they can. I've also setup a little scribe service, writing letters and such for people who need to pass correspondence. And," he points to the map on the table, "I'm trying my hand as a mapmaker." He glances back down at the map for a moment, and then looks back at Gaim, "you said 'not a bad place for a holding'? I'm curious, what do you mean by that? Is there good farmland, easy access to the river, or something else?"

Gaim glances across at his travelling companions at the other table, before he answers.  "No, not really good land, but next year we should be able to grow Cabbage, Root Veg, Onions, Peas, Beans and even some Corn.  We already have chickens and a goat, but we could get some sheep and graze them in the hills, and there is a big radish path a few miles west.  It will keep us fed.  In a few years we will have plums and those tart little apples growing, and we can always get blackberries." He shrugs before he continues, "We will do OK for ourselves."

"But not like you city types," he grins, "We barely have any writing about, and wouldn't know how to make a map at all." he grins across at Pete, "Although I have seen a few in my time."  Then he grins and, speaking carefully, recites ...

I can show you where things are but I’m not a tour guide
I have a scale but I don’t weigh things
I contain roads but I’m not a city
I can be on paper or on skin but I’m not a shopping list
I can show you what’s north, south, west and east but I’m not a compass

Darius nods, "Well, I've definitely heard of worse places to make a home than that. Perhaps one of these new 'sirs' running about here will take a fancy to the area and make a proper city of it. If nothing else, being close to the road means that you can get supplies when you need them."

"Oh, I hope not.  It is good to be out in the hills, taking a bit of game, bringing in a handful of berries, some plums or .."  Gaim hesitates ".. or anything else you can find."

With that he drains his tankard, and looks across to the table with his friends on  "Well, I had better be getting back to my friends ..."

"Now you sound like a man after my own heart," Pete tells the poet when he talks about the type of life Pete used to enjoy so much. "I look forward to hearing what else you might find out there next time you are in town."

"Probably not until spring ...." the man says gazing deep into his empty tankard.

Darius notes Gain's look, "Hey, let me get you another drink for entertaining us."

"thank you sir." Gaim says sitting back down again, as a grin spreads across his face.

"Don't think I could live in a city all the time ..." he comments looking at the number of people in the bar.   The bar is no where near as busy as on a Friday or Saturday night when  Wyn compares a night of entertainment provided by the some  of the Town's best entertainers - as well as the occasional guest from afar!