Nervous energy flows through your body like thousands of miniature lightning bolts, heightening some senses, and dulling others as you feel your heart beat just a little faster.  You and several other passengers are aboard the ferry, heading northward across the Segoltha River toward The Crossing.  Is it "The Crossing" or just "Crossing", you wonder.  Shaking your head to clear that inconsequential thought, you notice many of the passengers seem bored, or tired.  This is not a novelty to many of them.  The crew goes about their business with a familiarity that breeds confidence that you'll eventually arrive safely.  Some passengers though, appear to be as eager... or as nervous... as you.  Their bright eyes scanning the course ahead, pointing and gesturing at the different boats that are plying the waterways.  Ahead, you can begin to see a sprawling city with ramshackle buildings along the banks, but also, in the background, some gleaming towers of massive edifices.  Mouth agape in awe, you've never seen such a concentration of life.  Random thoughts begin to careen through your mind- Where will you stay? What will you do? I wonder if the food is any good?  Is the city dangerous?  Or is it only OUTSIDE the city that's dangerous?  Are people friendly?  Is it expensive?  What will I do for coin?  Will I make any friends?  Are there others like me?  Are there any strange races living there?  Your mind is operating on overdrive as you approach the docks and you see hundreds of people working, hauling, lifting, dragging, some shouting orders, others following them, and still more keeping out of the way, watching with ambivalence, and some with wariness.  The crew ties up at the docks, the passengers gather their belongings, and people begin to exit to... what?

The dock area is teeming with a mass of humanity, most of them engaged in work of some kind, others keeping a watchful eye over the proceedings.  The noise of people talking, some shouting, and the clanging and banging of cranes, and overloaded carts almost drowns out the fatigued and uninteresting voice of a human male holding pamphlets in his left hand, while gesturing with his right.  "Welcome to The Crossing, where you will find what you're looking for, ("whatever that is" he mutters before continuing).  Looking for coin, commerce, adventure, employment, or entertainment?  Crossing has it all.  See me for more information.  He pulls a flask out of his inside vest pocket and takes a pull before repeating his litany in the same, dull, uninteresting voice.  He appears to have several stacks of parchment scattered haphazardly at his booth, weighted down with rocks so as not to flutter away with the wind.  Very few people seem to take notice of him.

Remaining quiet and observing was easy for me, I'd done it all my life.  While the new environment had me a bit nervous I just employed the same skills I'd always used.  So I sat there, quiet, observing.  Noticing a few of the passengers that were clearly as new to this form of travel as I was, I began to study them one by one.  One of the things my mother had impressed upon me when she sent me out on my own was to use my instincts to make friends.  So I studying each of the other nervous people.  One in particular seemed very calm and still overall, though a bit of fidgeting gave away his true feelings about the trip.  He was huge, over 7' tall I estimated and seemed quite strong and agile at the same time.  He also was studying people.  When our eyes met briefly I nodded to him hoping he would take it as a sign of "I'm in the same situation you are" and let him take the next step if he was so inclined to do so.

Watching the massive throng of people talking, yelling, moving, pushing as we docked, a man with papers in one hand calling out a welcome caught  my attention.  Going over towards him I reached out and was about to ask for one of his papers when he shoved one in my direction then looked elsewhere to give out his information.  Taking the paper I read what it had to offer...(will wait for that obviously).  I'd need to find shelter and food, in that order.  I'd gone a night or two without a meal so that was not a top priority.  Ok mother, I made it to the big city...hopefully I can find the Arcanist Guild tomorrow, but for tonight I needed a safe place to sleep so I browsed the paper in my hand for any mention of an Inn.

I target the innkeeper and fire:  15:03, Today: Materia rolled 18 using 1d20+1.
15:02, Today: Materia rolled 3 using 1d10. Firebolt.
This message was last edited by a game editor at 21:05, Sun 04 Dec 2022.