The Uncharted Lands: The Story so far

The Uncharted Lands A Chronicle of the Brave Souls that first ventured into the Perils of the Uncharted Lands And founded the settlement of Bryn Baraz

Volume 1 A Once in a Lifetime Opportunity

Chapter 1 New Beginnings

Episode 1 The Gathering

High overhead the false sky of Floating City's Fence level lightened from darkest flint to dove gray. As a finger of pale golden light cut diagonally overhead, the tangy scent of Turtle Lake was carried across the cargo area by the docks. A sudden gust traveled down Sailors Fork and was channeled down a side alley where it ripped a handbill from off the signboard in front of The Brass Toad Tavern. The parchment came to rest against a curb on Rogues Alley. Like others posted throughout the six levels of the city it read:

Attention all Woldians of the age of consent!

The Stonehelm Mining and Exploration Company seeks interested parties to join them in a new and exciting venture. The 'Company' has successfully petitioned for the rights to establish a new settlement in the uncharted lands for the purposes of mineral exploitation and commerce. Join us in establishing the new settlement of Bryn Baraz and in so doing; share in the fortunes of this once in a lifetime opportunity. Land, commercial enterprises, and opportunities for personal advancement are available. Minimum two-year commitment required! Lodgings provided! All interested parties shall make their interests known at the kiosks located dockside on Fence Level on the third Friday of the month. Departure for the new settlement will take place no later than the last Friday of said month.

These handbills had been posted on notice boards, fences, and storefronts across Floating City. A few notices had made their way to other larger communities on the continent of Yrth such as Plateau City, Dirt City, and even as far away as Isumbre in Zarthmoor. As the circle of life moved towards the time of rebirth, the deadline for application to be a part of the settlement that would be Bryn Baraz was at hand. Those who were interested, if not already in the Floating City, were arriving via Turtle Ferry or Teleport at one of the terminals on the Fence Level and making their way towards the tented pavilions set up on Pier Row by 'Stonehelm Mining and Exploration Company'. Floating City arrived at its name due to the fact that it WAS actually floating in the middle of Turtle Lake. Added to this unusual location is the city’s architecture. It was an elevated city with six levels. The topmost level was the home to the rich and important as well as the location of the most important of the local temples, The Arena, Diamond Midway, The Underamp and Overlord Palace. Various parks, connecting trails, and roads wound throughout the level showcasing monuments to various heroes and causes. The infamous Black Dragons made their home there when they were in residence. The next level was the Gold Level because of the large amount of sunlight that penetrated the level and the cost of most services found there. It was the home of many well-to-do merchants and their various businesses. This level was basically crime free because of its private police force. The Lords of Diamonds were said to meet somewhere on this level. Some of the tourist attractions of this level were Professor Nightshade's Taxidermy, Ozone's Sleep Haven, and Silverwing's Palace of Lavation (two extraordinary bathhouses and meeting places). This was also the home to The Sabertooth Lounge, The Shrine of The Chosen, the Warehouse home of Nikar the Sorceress, and the headquarters of Gordo's Transport.

The next level was the Merchant level and was where most of the local citizenry went to shop. Featuring such establishments as Butch's Butchery, Merabor's Infirmary, The Way Station, The Message in a Bottle Tavern, and The Fish Emporium, this level was always crowded with the daily business of the city's inhabitants. Visiting Critaceous, Certified Curios and The Temple of the Three Sisters was a must for visitors. The Barracks level was next and it was where the local constabulary and the Royal Army of the First Level resided and trained. Weapon shops, adventuring supplies, smith, and stables were all found in abundance here. Standout shops included: Fairshot's Bowyery, The Proud Ladysmith's Daughter, Hriand's Armory, Swords by Saburro, and Knives for Knights. It was also the home of The Jailhouse Rock, the area hangout for criminals. The level that most visitors saw first was the Fence level, as it was the home of Pier Row and the usual place to enter the Big Float. The sailors hung out here and the area was rough and if you were unprepared, you may be marked even before you set foot upon The Float. This was the home of various taverns -- including the Wold-famous Giggling Ghost. You could also find the best fish in town anywhere at The Dead End Fish Market, as well as various coin exchange facilities. It was worthy of note that The Floating City had its own currency and therefore supported a large number of exchange houses. Underneath Fence Level was the Trash Level, for here it was that all trash was gathered, sorted, and deported. This level was lit by torchlight only because it was actually underwater. Once a year, this level was flooded to get rid of the smell and refuse. A dead body hidden here might remain where it was put for months. Anarchy ruled here. Justice was by cash value through the After Midnight Ulterior Court. The side that had the best bribe usually won the case. This level also boasted the business fronts of Korig the Stalker, Boss Shackles, The Anvil's Heart Gang, and the Blue Moon Riders Club. Lernitig's Gate was a magical gate through which strangers arrived regularly and very surprised. Entertainment of the dark kind could be found at The Black Thorn Inn, The Black Spade Gambling Club, The Vampires's Daughter, and Tattoos by Sully. This area, of course, lead to the Sewer Network and the Underramp which led to Undercity where the Underlord and his bureaucracy chronicled the history of The Wold and where the machinery was found that kept the city afloat.

Retrieved from "http://www.woldiangames.com/Woldipedia/index.php/The_Floating_City"

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The light overhead intensified and there were noises that signified the start of the day: hammers and saws from construction, a clanging bell from Pier Row signifying the arrival or departure of a ferry. A thickset man, pipe clenched between his teeth, pulled a two wheeled cart behind him. Ropes knotted carefully over the tarp hid the contents, but the side of the cart revealed neat lettering identifying the man as Cairn Cunnane-- Blacksmith. The man and his cart rumbled down the cobblestones towards the cargo area. In a simple green and brown traveler's outfit, Caelnin Corrail arrived at Fence level and looked at the tented pavilions that lined the way, crowding an already crowded lane. Walking towards the pavilions, Caelnin asked his mule, "Hmmm. This looks like the place, don't it Vilria?" He double checked the handbill that he found on the notice board of his home town, nodded and headed off towards one of the Kiosk's that he seemed to be the gathering point for all the interested. Vilria let out a kind of sigh. She seemed happy that her trip was almost over. As Caelnin approached the kiosk and the long line in front of it, Vilria's eyes rested hopefully on the watering trough near which a dozen beasts were loosely tied. A small dark-eyed girl approached Caelnin shyly. "I'll look after your pretty horsey, if you'd like me too?" she volunteered. "My brudder's showed me how to brush a horsey's coat to make it shine." The elf knew his mule wouldn't make it inside the pavilion, and he could move more easily through the crowd if he was alone. Caelnin looked down at the little girl. Kneeling as best as he could in the crowded area he replied, "Your offer is kind little girl. If you make Vilria's old coat as shiny as you can, I'll give you an extra silver. Just be gentle with her, okay?" Letting the little girl pat Vilria as they walked over to the water trough, Caelnin said to the little girl, "It's such a busy place, isn't it, little girl. Just be very careful as I don't want either of you getting hurt." Caelnin then grabbed a rope out of the pack saddle and tied his mule to a post like the rest of the other beasts. Handing over two copper pieces to the little girl he told her, "Remember to make the coat as shiny as possible for me. I'll give you the rest later, ok?" As Caelnin patted Vilria’s head he sighed, "Is this the new beginning that I was looking for? It wouldn't hurt I guess. It will open my mind up to new materials for my bows.... Hopefully..." The little girl wasn’t listening. She was too busy staring in Vilria's big, brown eyes. Caelnin patted Vilria's head one more time then moved off to get into the line, which had grown larger, at the main kiosk. Vilria, on the other hand, was enjoying the pampering that she was getting. The street urchin held a small apple to the Vilria's mouth and the mule gently picked up the fruit with soft lips. It sighed contentedly as it was lead to the trough, and soon forgot any travail as the little girl began to brush her coat. Once done with the apple, the mule had a long, fresh, drink.

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Jet Stormway found his notice on the out skirts of Plateau City, where he had been ministering to those in need of holy enlightenment. The large human was fully aware of the danger involved in such a mission and relished the opportunity to advance the good gods of the Wold in new and exotic locations. He had caught the first Turtle ferry to run that morning upon arriving at Fence level, he grabbed himself a drink of ale before heading to the main kiosk to sign up for the dangerous mission. In doing so, he watched for others with the bravery and tenacity that was necessary with such an adventure. He immediately noticed the quickly forming queue and knew that if he didn’t get into the line, it would be a very long wait indeed before he learned anything new about this venture of the dwarves mining company. A little after Jet Stormway had boarded a Turtle ferry, a shadowy figure, dressed in browns and greens with a mottled cloak of the same colors, and a bow and quiver on his back, arrived at the landside dock and waited fort the next one. His height, build, and hair, which was peeking from under the hood of his cloak, marked him for what he was—an elf, but his face was covered by a mask-like cloth, hiding his facial features.

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Once at Fence level, Beren Greenleaf made his way through the crowd to the pavilions for the mining company. Once there he picked out one of the street children to hold his horse. He didn’t have much money, but didn’t think a silver piece would break him. Besides, he knew that Red will not let anyone lead him away from Beren, nor would he allow another rider, unless Beren confirmed it. He passed two silver coins to the one that responded, and in a soft voice from behind his mask, he said, "His name is Red." After a few moments he saw the crowd part a little and amid a few distressed murmurs, a short, waifish woman approached the main kiosk. She had a solid, wiry frame, though she was not at all muscular. She wore long skirts, with countless folds and pockets, along with a simple swath of fabric tied around her chest. A loose, netted shawl hung low from her arms and over her hindquarters. Pouches and purses dangled from a loose-fitting belt tied over her hips, along with a set of glass daggers. Also tied to the belt were a number of wooden and cloth dolls of varying shapes and sizes.

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Fatine had jet black hair. It may have been long once, though now it was a knotted mess of beaded braids and dreadlocks. It looked to have seen a bath something around the last Cataclysm, maybe even a few days before that. Notwithstanding the hair, she was probably a very attractive woman, though her unique decorations somewhat ruined the appearance. Nose, eyebrows, ears, lip and neck were all pierced with silver hoops and golden spikes. Her left arm had a word crudely tattooed on it (though with good eyes one could see it read 'Eldrineda'). A pair of greenish-brown ears tied to a leather thong hung from her right arm, and a necklace of unidentifiable teeth hung low around her neck. She turned to a man in a fine suit of livery that had made a comment as she passed, hissing at him and caressing one of the dolls at her waist. As she lined up at the main kiosk, a pair of large dogs followed close behind her. One, a sleek grey-black, the other a clean, crisp white. A black bird screeched loudly, "caw, caw!" as it tried to fly into the tent. Turning, Fatine let it land on her arm, then bending close seemed to have a rather drawn out conversation with the bird. Finally, she shook her head and waggled a finger at it, tossing it back outside again. Turning, she looked around, surveying the scene, absent-mindedly petting one of her dogs while mumbling to herself. She immediately saw a cleric swaggering up behind her, obviously proud to be a pure cleric to all the good gods of the Wold and boldly displayed that fact. He wore a white tabard with a figure that appeared to be an evenly cut pie upon it. The One O'clock location on the pie bore the symbol of Alemi. The three O'clock location bore the symbol of Pantheon. The five O'clock location bore the symbol of Domi. The seven O'clock location bore the symbol of Ffloy. The nine O'clock location bore the symbol of Flower, and the 11 O'clock location bore the symbol of Gargul.

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Whether it was arrogance or confidence she couldn't tell but his cleaning habits were not much better than hers. As he got into the line proper, Jet Stormway opened his mouth and belched with abandon, neither covering his large maw nor appearing to care what others thought about it. Fatine gave a start, then laughed. Bending over to her white dog she whispered something in its ear. Unperturbed by the looks, Jet stood idle, glad he hadn't worn his armor to this informal gathering of misfits and social outcasts. He looked around at some of the other priests or ‘healers’ in line and sighed out loud “Some of them limit themselves to a single god and devoted only to one belief. How absurd that must be”, then pondered what he was getting himself into.

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Riding a large, strong warhorse through the center of the level towards the docks came a fighter in shiny breastplate that sported an emblem of the Mailed Fist organization, under which was an emblem of a wolf. He was immersed in his own thoughts. ‘Two years!’ Alexi had had plenty of time to think about that. But two years wasn't all that long he told himself. His three years in the Fist went pretty fast, considering. Getting his dad to speak to him again, now that would take a long time. So as Alexi Komonov maneuvered his horse, laden with gear, through the narrow streets he pondered how it would be like working again. Surely a merchant or miner in this new Bryn Baraz would be in need of guards. But if not, he would strike out on his own. His thoughts were suddenly interrupted by the jostling of his warhorse by a huge cart, pulled by a thick set man, pipe between his teeth. They glared at each other for a moment, but Alexi, always rather polite, stepped his horse into a side ally. The man saw the coat-of-arms of the Mailed Fist emblazoned on the horseman’s breastplate and decided to let things be and moved on. Arriving at his destination he beckoned to a loitering youth and pointed to his cart. Placing a copper in the youth's hand, he said, "there's a silver in'it for ye, if'n you mind the cart." The youth tugged at his cap as he nodded. Crossing his arms across his chest the youth leaned proprietarily against the cart. Similar scenes took place as street urchins of the 'Big Float' volunteered to mind animals, carts, and wagons that would not be able to navigate the kiosks inside the pavilions set up by Stonehelm Mining and Exploration Company. As the queue formed, Cairn Cunnane cast a quick backwards glance at the cart containing all his worldly possessions, then squared his shoulders and faced his future. Meanwhile Alexi had followed the cart letting the cart pave the way ahead through the crowd. Although he hadn’t had any problems getting through before as the stares of the crowd gave way to an avoidance that Alexi had not yet noticed, so immersed in his thoughts he had been. He had spent the night on the Gold level and now was back on Fence level, and if it had been busy and crowded the day before, it was much worse now! Alexi felt he hadn't been in this much chaos since, well since, well, that was war. This was just mayhem. Did he really have to do this? Yeah, he had too. When he had decided that his career would not be in the Fist he wasn't left with many options to make a name for himself worthy of his father's support. Now, at least, he would vanish into obscurity or come back somebody. When he reached the docks he dismounting, although it would have been easier to part the crowed while mounted, he made his way through the crowds to the kiosks.

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At the head of the queue at the main kiosk, a harried looking gnome consulted a parchment as he directed the applicants. "The carpenter's kiosk is over there," he squeaked, waving his hand vaguely to the right, and a young man was admitted past two burly guards who flanked the gnome. Cairn was directed to the left, where a crimson flag emblazoned with hammer, anvil, and sword distinguished the spot for blacksmiths and weapons masters. Another man was directed to the place where farmers could register. A stout woman in an extravagant hat caused a commotion as she negotiated admittance of herself and her six 'daughters'. Those with acute hearing discerned she aspired to the establishment of a boarding house to be maintained by her daughters and herself for the purpose of meeting the needs of the single male laborers’ in need of domestic comforts. Folks were dispatched right and left to register where appropriate. "You wish to minister to body and soul?" asked the gnome, "Security and law? The constabulary is over there," he hooked a thumb over his shoulder, "Can you cook?" he asked a buxom maid, peering over half-moon glasses, "over there," and the guards parted to admit the lass. A tall elf garbed in crimson robes approached the gnome. Hard on his heels a human male, and half-orc female. He whispered in the ear of the gnome, who looked up and addressed the pair. "Can you handle a team?" The half-orc nodded her head in the affirmative and the man responded, "Yup! Sure can." The duo was waved through ahead of the next applicant. The appeal of an opportunity of a lifetime appeared to outweigh the idea of a two year commitment and hints of danger in the uncharted lands. The line didn't get shorter, instead it grew wider and longer as folks intent on a new beginning lined up. The thin elf in the crimson cloak remained at the front of the queue and assisted the gnome in directing the applicants.

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Half an hour earlier, leading an ugly copper-coated steppe pony, a hooded traveler in grays and browns alighted from the ferry. Beneath his hood his yellow-tinted eyes were scanning around as if searching for some unknown object or person. Then abruptly the youth threw back his hood and smiled before whispering, "I laugh because I can." Standing only over five feet and a half, Anrete Nanoc was not exceptionally large, but there was both power and grace in his movement. Striding over to an old wooden bulletin board near the dockside, an armored fist emerged from within the traveler's cape and ripped off a yellowed parchment, 'Attention all Woldians of the age of consent!' it began. Without a word he led his battle-geared mare towards the pavilions set up on Pier Row by 'Stonehelm Mining and Exploration Company'.

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Meanwhile, Alexi ignored the looks he got as he moved through the crowd. At first he thought it was because they recognized the emblem of the Mailed Fist, but he soon noticed that all other large animals were being left outside the crowded area. So maybe it was the inconvenience of the large horse in their midst that was giving him the odd looks, he wondered. Alexi backed out with many "Excuse me's" and was soon beset by street urchins begging to take care of his horse while he took care of his business in the kiosks. He listened to each one and picked out one that seemed more to his liking, big for his age and strong looking, enough to be able to handle such a big horse as his warhorse. The saddle and horse both had the emblem of the Fist, and he made that clear to the boy. Securing his lance in its saddle holster he said, "Take care of him well. And remember, the Fist take care of their own. So if you are of a mind to join the Fist, you would have a family of several thousand loyal brothers and sisters." His point had two edges he hoped the youth would understand. Then with a smile he handed a silver coin to him and asked him, "Which one of these tents is for strong warriors looking for adventure?" The youth pointed to a tent with a large banner and a sign 'Constbulary'. "I think that one, sir". Alexi nodded at him and strutted off to the tent, backpack over shoulder, curious to see if there would be other ex-Fist members on this venture as well. Alexi thought he had skipped a long and unnecessary line by going straight to the 'Constabulary' but when he got there they just stood glaring at him. Then a gruff man behind the counter rumbled, "Ye gotta get permission first!" and continued to stare while pointing to the long line in front of a gnome at a kiosk several over. Alexi shrugged then nodded and strode off to the back of the line. He tried to be careful not to bump anyone with his arsenal of weapons but that was unnecessary, everyone pretty much gave him plenty of room. Beren Greenleaf, seeing the steady stream of people entering the line with no sign of the hopefuls slacking up, got up and joined in behind the ex-Mailed Fist soldier.

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The recruiters for the Stonehelm venture were overwhelmed. For every available spot on the recruitment list there were five or more hopeful applicants. Caelnin caught snatches of conversation as he came nearer the front and figured that there would be less than 200 individuals selected for the venture. As he approached the desk and waited for the gnome to stop writing something in a ledger, he glimpsed numbers on a parchment next to the gnome. He made out: farmers-75, trades-60, security-30, and services-15. Caelnin explained to the gnome that he was an expert bowman. "Go see Security," the gnome volunteered, "If that doesn't work out, they can redirect you." Caelnin nodded and thanked the gnome, choosing the gnome’s native language, then headed off in the direction that the gnome pointed. When Caelnin reached the Security Kiosk, he noticed all the mediocre shortbows and longbows in the crowd. Caelnin wondered ‘Where did some of these people get their bows from? They don't look very good...’ While he waited he amused himself by studying the various bows belonging to those in front of him.

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When Fatine reached the gnome, the witch looked him up and down and said, "I take care o' dee tings dat go bump in dee night, little man. Send me where ye please." Her hand drifted to one of the dolls at her belt and she lifted it up. "Dis one looks a bit like ye, no?" she asked the gnome with a smile on her face. The gnome scratched his head at Fatine's cryptic words, then spotted her cauldron. "Straight ahead to the third kiosk," he said as he pointed. Fatine saw a pennant with the image of a cauldron over a fire, overtop of which there are two crossed spoons! The woman looked askance at it and stayed put. "You be misunderstandin' Fatine, little one. I no like dee cookin'. I toy with dee minds and souls of your enemies, so dey cannot toy with your wee body. Maybe you give Fatine a more important job den a cook, hmm?" “You don't cook?” squeaked the gnome, incredulous, "and you want something 'more important'!" The pitch of the gnome's voice went up a notch. "If cooking is not to your liking, go see the Herbalist. Maybe he needs an assistant," and he waved Fatine through, and pointed towards the kiosk marked 'Services'. Fatine looked at the gnome for a moment. "Herbalism!" she exclaimed. "Now ye be tinkin' straighter, little one. Dat be good enough for now. Jus' like workin' fer Mistress, it be." She then strode off towards the ‘Services’ kiosk, chattering away at no one in particular. As if on command, the pair of dogs padded quietly behind her eyeing the crowd. The next one, Jet Stormway, stepped up. "I have many talents, but dispatching evil is the one I enjoy most," the belching cleric told the gnome as he took a drink of ale from his skin. "I can also provide sermons to those that do not have a representative to their favored deity, but that's no where near as fun or profitable as the first." The gnome quickly directed the cleric to the kiosk for healers. "Better hurry, as there aren't many openings," he commented.

Turning to the next applicant, the gnome got a face full of Alexi's Mailed Fist insignia. Alexi was about to announce his profession when the whole kiosk seemed to darken dramatically. As the administrator’s eyes grew round, the demeanor of the guards flanking him changed, and stiffening up they took up hostile stances. The robed elf signaled the human fighter to step off to one side in order to have a word. Alexi exclaimed "Wha..., What's wrong?" then shrugged and moved to join the elf. "Look," said the elf, scrutinizing Alexi’s face while speaking, "I Swear to Serve the Fist, Live for the Fist, Die for the Fist," that's your credo, right? Your association with that organization would guarantee your skills are those we seek for Security, but your motives?" The tall elf left the question hanging in the air as he studied the young Alexi. "Would you put your life on the line and guard the wagon train to Bryn Baraz?" the elf continued, "and once there could you keep the peace in the community? ‘You Pay, We Fight’, that's another thing. But can you do more? Be more?" The elf was testing Alexi’s mettle and waited for the soldier to reveal why he should be considered as an applicant for the community. Alexi smiled at the elf as he replied, "See here, Sir, once a Fist, always a Fist! They are my brothers and sisters, and I served my time well. But I decided to leave the Fist TO do more, BE more!" Then he sighed, "In times of war, promotions come quick as one has the opportunity to prove oneself, but in times of relative peace, one becomes stagnant. Perhaps one day I'll return to the Fist, but I signed up for three years there and was good for my word and work. I sign up for two years here and I'm good for the same. Do you have my sword and lance or not?"

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While Beren patiently bided his time as the administrators dealt with the ex-Mailed Fist soldier, a ruckus erupted in the back of the line. Guards headed back there and someone yelled "Is there a cleric in the house?” while a horse could be heard whinnying. Beren’s attention was turned back to the gnome when he blurted, “NEXT!” The elf was still talking to the Mailed Fist soldier but Beren stepped up and simply stated in a soft voice, "I'm good in the forest". "Good in the forest," repeated the admission officer, "can you work with wood? We have 15 spots in 'trades' for people who understand wood." Then absentmindedly he waved the masked elf through.

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Inside the pavilion there were many kiosks, each one labeled with a flag bearing an image that signified the skills being sought by the Stonehelm Corp. The largest was for Miners, and the second largest was flagged for Farmers. Under a large banner for trades were smaller stations for Wood work, Stone work, Crafts, and Culinary. The kiosk marked Services was the smallest, but had several people stationed behind the information booth. Security was at the far end, with a large roped off space extending over one of the docks, likely for tryouts. Caelnin nervously looked at the Security kiosk in front of him. The person at the front seemed to be a tough guy, someone that you wouldn't want to bump into at the Giggling Ghost. He muttered to himself "What do I have to say? Hopefully he will let me in... Hopefully..." While thinking about what to say to him, the person behind the kiosk shouted out "Next! I don't have all day!" Rejected, the fellow in front of Caelnin stomped off muttering, "Wimmin! Can't figger'm for soldiers!" He knocked the sharpshooters shoulder, but was swallowed by folks lining up at the kiosk. Caelnin got momentarily confused by the whole mess that he had gotten himself into but once the wanna-be soldier bumped him hard in the shoulder, Caelnin's mind came back to the real world in time to hear "That means you, elfy-boy!" Caelnin anticipated hostility, but the Security kiosk is all efficiency. In front of him were three individuals cloaked in the crimson of the Stonehelm Corp. A middle aged woman magiker, a human fighter a little past his prime, and a middle aged half-elf. Caelnin woke up from his daydream and looked back over the line to see that everyone was staring at him, many of them looking annoyed. Caelnin walked over to the kiosk, and the man behind the counter asked "What's your name and what is your primary weapon. Quick!" "Aaahh... I'm Caelnin Corrail, and I am truly skilled with a bow. Um... Don't like going into hand-to-hand combat, but doesn't mean that I won't if the time comes... And I make my own weapons. I'd rather know that I stuffed up, than get angry at the person that made me a weapon that falls apart in the heat of battle... Anyway, my weapons tend to work for me anyway, knowing how they are made makes them easier to use, I find...." Caelnin watched the man write down some notes on his paper. ‘Hopefully I told him the right things...’ he fretted. In contrast, Vilria was having the time of her life, except for the times that the girl that was taking care of her was trying to undo the knots in her tail. Ouch! The half-elf beckoned to Caelnin, "the bow!" and held out his hands, while the elder man asked, "how do you feel about other races? Can you work with dwarves? What about half-orcs?" Caelnin hesitated but handed the half-elf his bow. "Be careful with it. It took me about five months to make. People like me have a lot of time on their hands. Has nice pull, enough for me anyway..." Caelnin then turned his head to the human, Caelnin replied, "Well, Dwarves are great at crafting weapons, so I really don't mind them. Unless they start to put me down is when they get on my nerves. Half-orcs... Hmmm... A bit on the brutish side, but every ranged combatant needs a melee capable fighter to keep enemies far away from them so they can shoot from a very far distance. The main people that I have a slight problem with are people that wield a bow unprofessionally. Bows are works of art, and in the wrong hands the beauty is wasted." Caelnin then looked at the woman. "Sorry, I don't have any magical abilities."

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Fatine negotiated the crowd with ease, moving lithely between the men and women. When she finally reached the front of the Service kiosk she was directed to a medium sized half-elf of indeterminate age at the end of the table. She surveyed the half-elf first, then said, "I be Fatine. Dat wee little man says I come here." Pointing at the small cauldron tied to the back of one of the dogs, then at the potions hanging from her belt, she continued, "I tink I will be useful." The herbalist had one hand on the lid of a wooden case with panes of glass along the side and top. He was busy poking at the soil inside, and only lifted his head from his work when Fatine addressed him. Intelligent blue eyes took in the exotic woman and her equipage. "I believe you are right," he said in a soft measured voice. "Stonehelm Corp. will only allow me one assistant. I need someone who is flexible and multi-talented, and who can work with little or no supervision. The work will be hard, but very rewarding. Also, I need someone who can start right away. I'm Tarketh Clearwood, by the way." Fatine flashed Tarketh a wide, toothy grin. "I tink dat be me, Master. I be Fatine: mystic, spiritualist, and . . . herbalist. I do dee best work wit'out supervisin'. You say dee word, Fatine gets dee job done." Looking at her dogs, she continued, "'Course, dese here puppies, and me no-good bird, be comin' along as well, dat be okay? If so, ye found yerself dee best assistant in dis here city. Plus, I do good at keepin' ye safe and sound. Ain't none o' dese here fools" and her hand swept the tent - "gonna bother Darketh, hear?" With another smile, she spat on the palm of her hand and extends her arm expectantly toward Tarketh.

- - - x - - -

Jet now arrived at the Services kiosk and took a long gulp from his skin and quite plainly added, "If you’re planning on holing me up in some building in the middle of nowhere, I want in another line." His tone was matter of fact and without emotion. He intends to find adventure. ‘Let these other priests deal with the home sick and heart broken,’ he was thinking. A cleric not much older than Jet responded. "Actually, you look like just the kind of guy we want," he said as he grinned widely. "Sure, you'll have to minister to folks in the community, and do a service every now and then, but we need someone who's not afraid to go out with the Security guys when they do scouting missions. Someone's got to fix 'em up, eh? You up for that?" The young cleric pushed a contract forward for Jet's signature. "That's what I'm talking about", he replied to the man with a broad smile. He eagerly began to sign the paper then stopped himself to read some of the print. "What about loot?" he asked before he continued to sign. "IF something attacks me and I kill it, I get to keep what it had, right, or is the company expecting a share of whatever is dumb enough to attack whatever group I am with?" A grumbling started to rumble in the line as Jet continued to hold it up. Jet, however, was undaunted. He would take whatever time it took to insure that his two year stint was to his best advantage.

- - - x - - -

Meanwhile, Mikal was rushing down towards the docks cursing himself out loud. "Damn! Why were there so many people to heal on the way! If I would have just.... no, no, no, don't go down that path boy, everyone deserves healing whether you have the time or not!" Continuing to rush, dodging people as he made his way to the kiosks, he finally made it, with nothing short of a miracle. He got in line, panting in his clerical vestments, his holy symbol standing out like a beacon hanging around his neck. After a moment of stilling his beating heart he composed himself and straightened up. Due to overwhelming response to the advertisement there were even more applicants than openings than before and the line had become very wide and very long. Guards in the now familiar crimson of the Stonehelm Corp. created a gauntlet for the line of hopefuls. Suddenly there was a commotion in front of the cleric, and the line-up swayed and heaved. A red-faced man went down clutching at his chest. "Is there a cleric in the house!" yelled a guard as he and his companion moved towards the stricken individual.

Anrete had arrived and was unimpressed by the chaos before him as he made his way towards the queue, his war pony in heel. "Make way! Make way! How can a good warhorse sign up if you don't give some space! That's discrimination!" he bellowed. To add to the confusion, Copper reared up and neighed! The crowd backed away, but the guards flanking the admissions officers, and a few others on security detail nearby responded. With Copper settled and a few curt words from the guards, Anrete realized that he would have to leave his mount outside. "Discrimination I say!" Anrete complained as he turned back out and looked for a place to tie Copper. He finally led his pony to an isolated corner. Ignoring the multitudes of little boys and girls, Anrete drew forth a javelin from Copper's saddle. Finding a suitable spot, he plunged the weapon onto the ground and gave Copper a command, “Guard!” Just as he was about to head back towards the queue, Anrete tossed a couple of copper coins toward a nearby beggar kid. "Make sure no one gets hurt, she bites," he said.

- - - x - - -

The robed elf did not distract himself with the ruckus in the line and continued to quiz the Mailed Fist soldier. "So you don't like being lectured to!" he commented to Alexi. "Oh, I've had plenty of lecturing," Alexi casually replied back. "And I didn't make sergeant for not listening either." The fighter had made an impression, on the elf. Not only was he admitted into the pavilion, but he was personally escorted to the kiosk marked 'Security' by the elf. Following his guide to the 'Security' kiosk he was relieved to see he was bypassing quite a lot of applicants. It was difficult to take everything in. So many strange, bizarre, and weird people mingling around was enough to make one dizzy, however Alexi focused on his guide and soon came to the 'Security' kiosk. At the Security kiosk a human fighter a little past his prime and a middle aged half-elf were busy interviewing a copper haired elf with improbably long arms and seemed to be admiring the elf's bow. "Magda," the admissions officer addressed the middle aged woman magiker. Pointing to Alexi he continued, "I think this fellow has potential." The woman stood as the administrator bowed and returned to the line. Alexi thanked the elf as the lady said "Follow me.Try-outs are over here." She led the ex-Fist to the roped off area and asked, "And your weapon of choice is?" "Longsword and charger," he promptly replied, adding "I'm a cavalryman, but one must fight afoot oftentimes too. Since there is no jousting arena here, you'll just have to take my word for my horsemanship." About his person Alexi carried a longsword, flail, dagger, handaxe, and short composite bow. He adjusted his shield then drew his longsword. Looking into the roped off area he was about to ask, "What next?" when Magda asked "You are adept with animals then? Would you be able to handle a wagon and team?" Alexi nearly choked at the question. Somehow he managed to blurt out, "Yes, I do have some skill in handling animals," and something to the effect that he could manage a wagon if needed. As Alexi walked away with Madga the older Security officer was still conversing with copper-haired elf. The man was looking disparagingly at Caelnin. "Your thinkin' is kind of narrow," he admonished. "Yea know yea be signin' on to protect a community of miners and farmers and other folks hopin' to start a settlement." The man eyed the sharp featured elf, "We got over 100 dwarven miners workin' up there, an' all number of races hired on to farm, an' help build the community." Caelnin replied, "I may be narrow minded, but once told to protect, protect I will. I never back down from good orders given to me, even if I don't like them." The elf spoke up. "Give him a chance," he said. "We've had a lot of big toughs apply, but not many like him. Not many with his talent, anyway." With a sigh, he handed the bow back to Caelnin. The older man's face remained grim, but his light eyes twinkled, "Get on with ye' then. Follow that'un for a try out." He hooked his thumb over his shoulder indicating the fighter trailing after the woman magiker. "Get 'em to set up some targets for ye," he called after the Sharpshooter. Caelnin then walked off towards the magicker and the Alexi.

- - - x - - -

Back at the Services kiosk the cleric was trying to be patient with Jet. "The deal is you get a 500 gold piece credit for gear from Stonehelm Corp. and a share in the venture. You finish your two years, you keep the gear, and the share is yours. The venture does well, you cash out big. The venture does poorly..." the young cleric shrugged his shoulders. "You check out before your two years are up, that is if you don't get killed first," he whispered conspiratorially, "you forfeit your share and the gear." The young man put his hand on the unsigned sheet of paper in front of Jet and started to draw it away. "Don't know if there's much swag laying around up there, but what you find, you keep, 'cept what comes out of the mine." With a stern look Jet held onto the papers. "Don't go getting all impatient there," he rasped. He looked them over once more, satisfied he could keep as a share whatever was found outside of the normal work. He took the pen and signed his name with a flourish. "Now what?" He asked with some enthusiasm before emptying what ale was left in his skin. Out of the corner of his eye he caught Tarketh Clearwood clasping Fatine's hand. With a nod to her dogs he said, "As long as they don't go burying their bones in the physic garden, Herbalist's Assistant it is. A formality," he added, as he forwarded the contract for the witch's signature. Handing Fatine a voucher, he continued, "Now I'd suggest you go see the paymaster about your 500 gold piece credit for gear from Stonehelm Corp. Put your order in now, and it will be delivered prior to our departure." Fatine smiled at Tarketh as she withdrew her hand, then bent and signed her name in a flowing script. Grabbing the voucher, Fatine waved to Tarketh as she walked off. "I see you soon, Master Darketh. Dis be a good deal ye make!" With that, she strode out of the pavilion, her dogs following close at her heel. When she reached the open air again, she raised an arm and a black crow alighted on her wrist. Bringing it close, she immediately launched into an unheard tirade, waggling her finger at the crow while it cawed angrily at her. The grinning cleric, collecting the contract signed by Jet, handed the man a voucher as well. "See the paymaster about your 500GP credit for gear from Stonehelm Corp. Put your order in now, and it will be available prior to our departure. Tell'em to have it delivered to the healer's wagons, then you be there yourself, next week Friday morning sharp!" Back at the line, a circle had been made around the convulsing man. Anrete, standing nearby grumbled.

Troubles never ends, it seems. First my horse, they would deny. Then a man, in pain to cry. Troubles never ends, it seems.

A sigh, a time, for me, I guess. Trouble troubles never end.

With a shrug, Anrete glanced around for some poor sod that had a look of a healer, ‘There must be some around here!’ he thought. Anrete grabbed the nearest likely candidate. "M-m-me? I don't know nothin' 'bout fixin' folk?" the fellow replied. Regardless, the rogue had dragged the fellow he had drafted to the stricken man when the guards arrived and were conscripted as stretcher bearers for an improvised stretcher of a blanket and two lances. "I'm a cleric!" shouted Mikal from way back in the line and came rushing forward. Anrete pushed his way through the circle and shouted, “Make way, I say! This good fellow is here to help." Mikal rushed in and knelt down, motioning for everyone to stay back. "Let's see here," he muttered while checking the man’s pulse and breathing. "This isn't good," he said and looked for the nearest guard. "You! Bring me two pints of water quickly!" The guard took off and Mikal continued to administer to the man, who by now was looking pretty pale. Mikal demonstrated uncanny ability as he stabilized the victim, identifying that the blood supply to the man's heart had been interrupted resulting in oxygen shortage to the brain. After the water arrived, the cleric of Alemi indicated that the man now was out of immediate danger and could be moved. With the guards leading the way at the front of the stretcher, Anrete and his recruit follow in the rear, each holding the end of a lance, Mikal trotted beside the victim and monitored his condition. The guards navigated the crowd and were waved past the admissions officer into the pavilion. The party arrived in front of a white tent marked with the motifs of Alemi and Gargul where they are greeted by clerics who relieved them of their burden. "You done good," volunteered one of the guards, nodding to Mikal, Anrete, and the fellow drafted by Anrete. "Now be off with yea." The guards headed back towards the entry area and the long line-up, while the three volunteers found themselves inside the pavilion with the different recruiting kiosks in front of them. Anrete's conscript nodded his adieu and headed towards the kiosk designated for farmers.

- - - x - - -

At the Security kiosk, Caelnin caught up with the Fist soldier and the woman and said, "I was told to ask you if you could put up some targets so I can shoot them down, or something to that effect. I will be glad to help if need be..." he then acknowledged the soldier and said, "Maybe he might be able to help, if he wants to." Then Caelnin addressed the soldier directly, knowing that he might be important or gifted (or both) as he skipped the line, and thought that trying to make friends might be a good idea. "Hello. I'm Caelnin Corrail. How long have you been waiting?" "Caelnin, Caelnin, such a hard name to pronounce. Did I get it right? Alexi is my name. I think I'm supposed to fight something in this ring. Is that right, Magda?" the soldier replied. At that moment a masked elf joined the group. Beren had been wandering around the kiosks, not knowing really what to do. He didn’t want to be a carpenter, which was what the gnome had insinuated. But finally someone pointed him towards the Security kiosk. Magda was leading them to a long wide dock that stretched out over the water of the lake. At the end of the dock a half dozen conventional targets of concentric circles had been set up. "We'll start with a test of ranged weapons first. Please make three attempts each." Beren, Caelnin, and Alexi each found themselves toeing a line about 60ft from a target at the end of the dock. "Handle a wagon my ****," Alexi muttered as he unslung his bow and put three arrows in the target, the first two in the first ring next to the bullseye and the third in the second ring Caelnin watched Alexi shoot then complemented him, "Good job, for someone that looks like a hand-to-hand combatant..." Alexi nodded at Caelnin and smiled, happy at the result, and replied, "I was trained in foot combat first, then archery, then cavalry. In the Fist, you get training in many forms of combat to see where you fit best. I'm a good archer, but lucky much of the time. I found my specialty upon a horse. I won't ever brag about my archery, and I've been unhorsed often times as well. With humility you gain strength." Caelnin was thinking as he took his stance and aimed his bow, ‘He really shouldn't have a bow... I expect a good bulls-eye from a good bowman. Don't know why he has one though if he’s on his horse most of the time.’ Then Caelnin concentrated on the task before him, ‘Nock the arrow here for almost perfect results. Pull string this far back for ideal power. My bow was made just for my personal use, so I should be perfect for me. Steady, steady... NOW!’ and the first arrow hit the bullseye right in the middle, just as he expected. His second shot went just the same as the first, but his third shot hit the second ring. ‘What's wrong with me... I can do better,’ he chided himself. Behind him he could hear Madga telling him, "Your turn is over now, please step down." However Caelnin just focused with his eyes closed and he shot, angry at himself. His concentration paid off as he hit the bullseye once again. Stepping away he commented, pleased with himself, "You don't have to count the last shot if you wish". Alexi's words seemed to ring truer than expected as Caelnin plunked one bullseye after another, followed by a shot with his eyes closed, however Alexi didn’t think the elf caught it, or perhaps he was truly very full of himself. "You must be a Sharpshooter," he complemented Caelnin. "I've seen shooting like this. The Fist has many regiments of just Sharpshooters. Always good to have them around. I hope we both get selected." Caelnin replied, "Thank you and Yes, I am a sharpshooter, but I'm more of a fine crafter of weapons. It just my experience with crafting bows have made be a good shot with the arrows, not the other way around..." Beren stepped up next. ‘Three shots is not much to prove your worth, but so be it,’ he was thinking. He fired his three in quick succession, two of the arrows finding the center, with the third just outside into the 1st ring. He says nothing more, but smiled behind his mask. His attention being on Caelnin, Alexi had not noticed a green and brown clad masked person also stepping up to the archery range. Now, with two arrows in the bullseye as well, Alexi wondered if he was also a Sharpshooter. "Well done too," he complimented the masked none. "Do you two know each other? My name is Alexi." As Alexi spoke to the masked one he noticed the features of an elf. 'Explains the good shooting,' he mused. He then sees the masked humanoid take a few shots, doing better than him all up. Caelnin also noticed that the masked one was an elf. Speaking up he said, "We have not met before," and thought, 'He looks like a fine archer.' And considering that the elf had scored a higher mark all around than Caelnin, he mulled, 'Don't get jealous Caelnin... Just think that you got the same bulls-eyes as him. Don't fret...' Caelnin then greeted the masked elf, "I'm Caelnin Corrail, nice shooting back there." Beren nodded his head in answer to the comments on his shooting. In a soft voice, he replies, "I have spent time in the woods hunting. You both did well. My name is Beren."

- - - x - - -

"Lucky day, huh?" Anrete commented dryly as he glanced over at the queue he had just skipped with the cleric. Giving the cleric a look-over, the battle-scarred lad chuckled before heading over to where the saw some warriors were gathered firing arrows. "Anrete Nanoc, cartographer scout with a mean horse at your service! I am pretty handy in a fight too,” he said as he approached the kiosk. The recruiters at the 'Security' kiosk checked out his weapons approvingly then lead him to the dock to demonstrate his skill, and join the other three. With a cocky smile Anrete retrieved a flimsy looking stick from his quiver and began stringing his shortbow - a simple device comprising of just a stick and a bowstring. "Well I stole this from some goblins, I hope it works." He then took his place at the archery line. "Here goes!" he said. Holding his little bow in his gauntleted hand, Anrete drew a steel-tipped arrow from the quiver and launched two missiles in rapid succession, both hitting the 1st ring. "Not bad! Not bad!" And still giving his mocking grin, the jaundiced youth with blood red eyes suddenly drew his javelin and hurled it towards the target. The javelin hit with a loud thud, its steel tipped point embedded deeply onto the 1st ring. "Haha! Gotcha!" he exclaimed with jubilee, Turning back to the recruiter, Anrete shrugged, "So good fellow, do I pass or not?"

- - - x - - -

Mikal found himself standing there blinking. Once again a job well done and he let himself bask in the warmth of healing someone. That feeling was why he remained a cleric. The guard interrupted his warm reflection with "Now begone with ye," again. He stood at the center of the recruiting fair under the enormous Stonehelm Corporation pavilion. Kiosks on either side drew hopefuls looking for employment and a new beginning in The Uncharted Lands. Mikal started wandering off but paused a little ways and stood there wondering what to do next. The rush of saving a life left the healer dazed and a little confused. He turned to walk back out and get to the back of the line like an honorable man when a child started tugging on his robe. He smiled as he crouched to listen to the child's question. "Candy!" the child enthusiastically said as Mikal reached into one of the pockets on his robe and handed the child a piece of candy. He patted the child's head and got up to walk away when he was ambushed by more children! ‘Oh no! The horror, what ever will I do! I only have so much candy!’ his mind raced. He was about to give out his last piece when the 'child' of ruddy complexion, curling dark hair, and bright dark eyes admonished him. "I didn't say 'candy', you ninny! I said 'can-you-see' where farmers go! Haven't you ever seen a Halfling before?" "Oi! I think it's over there, Jarvis!" called another, and the swarm of little farmers was gone. Mikal stood there blinking. "Oh... that was... odd," he muttered and thought he could really use a nice Dwarven stout about then. He looked around and noticed a young man dressed in clerical garb coming his way. "Over here," called the young cleric, grinning at Mikal, "if you wish to minister to body and soul." The man held out a hand of greeting to the cleric of Alemi. "How is your knowledge of dwarf anatomy?" The young recruiter gestured to the folks darting this way and that inside the pavilion vying for the last available spots, "then there's this lot." Mikal smiled brightly. "Well you're in luck, I go where I am needed. Also, I've been wrist deep in dwarves before, so I know how to fix them." Leading Mikal to the Services kiosk the young cleric continued, "Look, I saw what you did earlier, when that fellow collapsed. You're gifted." When they reached the kiosk he pushed a contract across the table he added, "The settlement needs you." He picked up the contract and read it over quickly, signing his name at the bottom. "I would be more than happy to bring Alemi's light to unknown lands," he remarked as he handed the paper back. "Here's your voucher," the grinning recruiter said to Mikal. "Go see the paymaster about some extra gear." The cleric of Alemi got directions and made his way to the Paymaster Booth.

- - - x - - -

Alexi was introduced to his sparing partner. At 5ft. 8in. and a solid 190lbs., his frame was well muscled and lean. Fierce dark eyes glared out from beneath solid black eyebrows. A thick black moustache extended across the upper lip and drooped into chops that curled under a square chin. Dark hair was clipped into a short Mohawk. The soldier was armed with a longsword in his right hand, a small spiked shield over his left. Pointing to a rack of weapons, Alexi was directed to choose one. "They are blunted, so I'll only leave a nasty red welt on your pretty white..." Noticing Alexi's next challenge, Caelnin said to Alexi, "You look the type to have fun in these types of situations, with your training and such. I wish you luck with the big one over there." The sparring partner reminded Alexi of his drill sergeant. Well, except the hair and moustache. 'So, this is like boot camp again,' he mused. 'I can do this.' Alexi nodded at the man and tried several swords for weight, then picked one that felt the most comfortable. "Yeah, well see." Alexi took his stance as he learned in the Fist and prepared himself. Briefly through his mind he wondered, 'Why just me here, how about them?' After a few quick moments of the two measuring each other up, the sparing partner made his move and shortly struck a bruising blow on Alexi. "The Fists teach you anything about leadership, or only how to follow orders?" “Leadership!” Alexi replied, unbothered by the new bruise. “See my stripes?” and indicated the three bars between the wolf head and the fist emblem. One bar had an extra mark. “Three years in the Fist, made it to sergeant,” he finished, and coupled a few moves together to add a bruise to his partner. Meanwhile Caelnin and Beren underwent further questioning by the recruiters. "You are obviously skilled with a bow, but what else can you do? What are your weapon proficiencies? Do you know magicks? Manage animals?" Caelnin spoke up first. "Well, I'm a good crafter and take my time so that I can make almost perfect weapons for my customers. I pride myself with making bows that should last an elven life-time. On average, most simple weapons takes up to a week, martial weapons take a bit more than a week, from a few days to a month for the ones that I haven't seen before and it takes me about a month to make a composite longbow or short bow.” He paused a moment, then continued, “I'm also somewhat skilled at sneaking around, thus good at spying missions and reconnaissance. It also helps that I'm an elf, so that I can see things from a distance and spot things not ordinarily looked for. My father, Vonfellis, taught me to use many types of bows, and some swordplay with the longsword and rapier. However, I taught myself to use all the basic projectile weapons like the sling and crossbow. I always have a longsword on me just in case. But I don’t know any magics. My field of specialty doesn't allow for that. I shoot a bow well, yes, but it's because I know the mechanics of a bow, where to nock it for perfect flight, how far to pull back to get the most out of my shot, stuff like that. I'm a crafter by trade, but a bow master whenever the time comes for it." The recruiter eyed Beren, who replied softly, "I have been trained to proficiency in all marshal weapons. I am a good tracker, and good in the field as scout. I know animals, but don't use them much, except for my horse. I hope to learn magic soon, but do not use any yet." He hoped that was sufficient an answer to the interviewer's questions. It was the most he had said at one time in weeks. Contracts are thrust at them. "Sign here." When the recruiters thrust the papers at Caelnin, he was relieved that he had managed to do the right things to get hired. He read over it, noting that doing well in the mission meant good things would happen. It said that the adventure was fraught with danger, but this, he concluded, would open his mind up to different materials for his Vonfellan bow. Then they all heard a loud THUNK and an ‘Haha! Gotcha!’ Looking over towards the archery range, they saw a young warrior had just thrown a javelin at one of the targets, hitting it. Caelnin chuckled with disbelief. Beren and Caelnin signed, making the two year commitment to provide security for the settlement of Bryn Baraz. Anrete and Alexi were also offered a contract. The newest recruits of Stonehelm Corp. were handed their credit vouchers and directed to the paymaster.

The paymaster's booth was a revelation for the newest recruits to the Stonehelm Corp. venture, and gave them an idea as to the size and scope of the mission. Behind the booth was an enormous chart where the names of successful recruits magically appeared simultaneous with their signing of the contract. 120 spots under 'Mining' were already full. 'Farming' was closed as well, with 75 recruits. 'Trades' was nearly full, with a few spots in 'Crafts' and 'Culinary' still open. Only six spots of 30 remained in 'Security', and four under 'Services', two of those were saved for clerics. "NEXT!” Called one of the paymaster's clerks, beckoning for someone to step forward.

- - - x - - -

Ambling along while bickering with the crow, Fatine finally spied the line for the paymaster and stepped up to the back. Jet stepped up right behind her. Feeling pretty good about himself, he tried to flirt with her. Her only reply was "If you be gettin' dee burps again, big man, please burp dat way," with a smile on her face, she pointed to the cleric's other side, and toward an unknowing farmer. He looked around to make sure she was indeed speaking to him and with a courtly bow added, "My apologies M'lady, but bodily functions will occur. Burps are the last thing ye should be concerned with." He flashed her a large smile and stood back up to his full height waiting his turn. Reaching the front of the line, Fatine dropped her voucher on the counter and looked at the clerk, "Dey tell me I get money for dis. Now, can ye point out dee store for me so I - quit yer fussin' bird, a'fore I cook ye for dinner!" She broke off her conversation with the clerk as the raven made its way to her shoulder and began pecking at her ear. "Caw!" it called in reply. "No store, little lady," the paymaster replied. To clarify, with a heavy thud he placed a large book on the table. "Catacombs catalogue.* Place your order with me, and you'll have whatever you need delivered to Tarketh's wagon before you leave on Friday." Fatine thumbed through the book while the line behind her got longer by the arrival of Caelnin, Beren, Anrete, and Alexi. "It looks like this is the place, Beren," Caelnin said as he got in line. Noticing the warrior cleric and the wild-looking witch, Anrete chuckled. "Hey good fellows, I see you managed to get yourselves an adventure! I'm Anrete Nanoc, Security." Fatine, thumbing through the book, looked up briefly at Anrete. "I be Fatine," she responded, "of dee Gateway Downs. You northlanders may not heard o' dee Downs before.” Smiling again at the witch, the youth with old eyes remarked, "I like those ears!" Fatine grinned back. "Dey liked 'em as well, but I took dem anyway. Init dat right, little ones?" She used a finger to rustle the ears. "Hmm? . . . Oh, dey not in a good mood today, I tink." With another smile, she turned back to the paymaster. Turning back to his two elven fellow recruits, Anrete grinned and remarked, "Guess we will be seeing each other pretty soon huh? Anrete Nanoc is the name, and an archer I am not!" After getting over with his self-introduction, Anrete soon lost interest in his companions and tried valiantly to attract the attention of the paymaster by obnoxiously calling out, "Anrete Nanoc, Security, reporting to cash in my voucher, sir! And oh, by the way, is the feed and stabling for my war mount included in the contract?" To distract the obnoxious barbarian, Caelnin got his attention and complimented him. "Nice shooting back there, especially with your javelin. Hmmm... If we are working together, I'll make a nice shortbow to your specifications if you wish," he offered, but not out of good will, but he would not force himself to work with someone that didn't use the right equipment. Grinning at Caelnin, Anrete replied, "I wouldn't mind a new bow, but I’ll just say beforehand, I aren't a rich fellow. In fact, that is why I'm here instead of whoring down at the tavern." Caelnin then introduced himself to the other two. “I'm Caelnin from Security, but also a good weapon crafter at that. So, you must be from the other kiosks. What do you guys do?” Jet greeted Caelnin with a broad smile, hand shake and a strong slap on the back. "Pleased to meet you and well met my new friend. I am Jet. Jet Stormway. Pure cleric for all the gods of the Wold, as well as a fighter for that which is right and good." Jet then took a long swallow from his recently refilled skin and passed it to Calenin. "May the gods eyes always be upon us and those we are now sworn to protect and minister too." Fatine looked up from the book again and answered Caelnin, "I be an . . . herbalist. Yes, dat is why I was hired." Then she turned back to the paymaster and said, “I tink I need a tent. I like sleepin' alone. And some extra chalk, and needles, and dolls, if we be away from dee city so long. And a horse - not too big, hear? And maybe some extra potions." She then stepped aside and on a scrap of paper, scrawled out her order, which included a tent, sewing needles, cloth dolls, chalk, candles, and a horse with riding gear. Her potions were three Shield of Faith +2, Protection from Evil, Hide from Animals, Hide from Undead, Pass Without Trace, and Sanctuary. All this added up to the 500 gold from the voucher. Jet then stepped up and handed the man his voucher and pointed to his name that had magically been inscribed on the board behind him. "Is the company providing us with room and board on this mission? What about frosty adult beverages?" The paymaster looked where Jet pointed and saw that the fighter/cleric had signed on as a healer. "Bryn Baraz is a tent camp. Mayhap they've started on a building or two, but the miners have only been up there a couple of months. You'll be 4 or 6 in a tent at first, with plans for buildings before the first snow: cookhouse, miners' barracks, soldiers' barracks, and temple with a clinic. Some farmers want to build houses for their families. They'll get supplies, but they'll mostly be on their own." The paymaster scratched a grizzled cheek then continued, "Cook will keep you fed on the way up, standard trail fare. Up at the settlement, a cookhouse for the miners, a cook for the soldiers, 'cept when folks are on patrol, dunno' if there's a cook at the mission, but folks who are on their own will get rations. If its not enough you can hunt or see what grows up there." Jet got the distinct impression that spirits wouldn't be a part of the Stonehelm rations. "What? What! What!" Jet looked incredulous at the thought of no spirits on a two year journey. "I will need a few moments to contemplate this dilemma," he said, flustered, and took a few steps back from the counter, placed his right finger knuckle under his chin, and appeared to contemplate the situation. Caelnin then stepped up and flicked through the Catalogue and told the paymaster, "I'm Caelnin Corrail, and was chosen for Security," and placed the voucher on the counter. "May I get a cart, 3 potions of Pass Without Trace and 1 of Reduce Person and 2 Thunderstones. If it is no trouble, the remaining balance can be in some raw materials for bows, if that is possible." Checking the Sharpshooter's list he responded positively, "Supplies for crafting. Right! And the cart's a good idea too." With that taken care of Caelnin turned to leave. As he passed Anrete he said, "Don't worry about paying me, if that is what you mean. It's not that expensive and I'll just make it for you. Just if anyone asks you about the bow, just say that I made it. It will give me something to do during the week. I'll see you guys later, have to find a place to stay." Once outside the tent he looked for the child looking after Vilria. She seemed to be taking a break, but it looked like she had finished with Vilria. "Thank you child, here's your 2 silver that I promised you. You even got the knots out of her tail! I would not have the patience to do that!" He complimented. He handed the money over and started to make his way to the barracks level. Vilria neighed with delight once back in her master's care. Fatine quickly thrust her list in the paymaster’s face as soon as Caelnin had left. "Good! Good! Especially the horse," he said as he read the witch's list. "It'd be hard to make the 20 miles a day on foot." Fatine then turned and smiled politely to the others and walked off. She snapped her fingers twice and the dogs were back at her heel following quietly, but with watchful eyes on their surroundings. The raven flitted about her head, alighting on her shoulder, then leapt back into the air again. After a few moments she disappeared into the crowd. Fatine, her immediate future settled, headed back into the center of the city in search of accommodations and a place to work her dogs. She headed towards the central core and access to the different levels of the city. More than one anxious stare was directed towards her and her entourage of canine companions, but none dared interfere with her path. Next to the central ramp sat the Brass Toad Tavern. A small poorly written sign advertized rooms for rent. While Mikal stepped into line, Beren stepped up and thumbed through the book. He chose a vial of antitoxin, a Continual Flame spell cast on stone locket, a Tanglefoot bab, 10 Tendertwigs, a potion of Remove Fear, Hide from Animals, Cure Light Wounds, and Endure Elements. Collecting the masked elf's list, he nodded, "Can never have too many potions. Stonehelme Corp. will stock the clinic, but you never know if they'll have enough, or how long it will take ‘til Tarketh gets the physic garden going." With his selections confirmed, the silent elf moved off to one side, watching the others and listening to conversations. Information can be as valuable as equipment he had learned a long time ago. He sat down with his bow across his knees and waited quietly, alert. Jet was still continuing to think about the possibility of being on a two-year dry spell when he spoke up while Alexi thumbed through the catalog. "So, I can bring all the spirits I want, you just won't be providing them, correct?" The paymaster looked over his glasses at Jet with a quizzical look. "I t'aint seen a dwarven encampment yet that doesn't make their own grog. Not as good as that century ale they sometimes bring in, but still plenty decent for the likes o' you and me. I don't reckon it'll be a dry town," and scratched his head, "but if you bring your own, no one will think the less of ya." Any further discussion with the paymaster was lost on the man as he turned his attention to the next new settler in line, a stonemason by the look of him and the sound of his list of supplies. So Jet left the tent and headed to the closest tavern for a fine beer and relaxation, and to think over the supplies he’d need for the trip. He figured he’d be able to think better with a beer and comely lass willing to sit upon his lap and get comfortable with him for the evening. During all this time, Alexi had been sparring, attempting to prove his worth against a man that was a superior fighter, with many more years of experience, and Alexi had more bruises than he cared to count. It was, however, a good fight and a contract was handed to him. Alexi was pleased to have proven himself capable with his sword and promptly signed the contract. Taking his voucher to the paymaster he heard the end of a conversation between a cleric and some others standing around. It appeared to be related strong drink, the kind humans prefer, as opposed to those the dwarfs relish. Alexi pondered what to do with the bonus money while he waited his turn. He had already taken his savings and purchased all he thought he'd need for the trip. When the stonemason finally left, Anrete stepped up and abruptly started thumbing through the catalog wile naming out items, anxious to get on with it: map case, Darkwood shield, lance, cold iron Morningstar, silvered armor spike fittings, cold weather outfit, entertainer’s outfit, masterwork entertainer’s tools, a musical instrument, and some cartography materials. Finished, Anrete made his way back to his copper-coated steppe pony. "Copper, you are one expensive beast! The innkeeper is demanding a crazy amount for your stabling! I’ve spent all the voucher money and I’m broke again. I’m going to have to find a way to pay for you for a whole week!” Mikal made his way up to the desk and handed the paymaster a small list of items: two scrolls of Cure Light Wounds and two scrolls of Cure Moderate Wounds. With that taken care of, Mikal made his way back to the inn he was staying at, tossing his letter of acceptance into his backpack. At last Alexi steps up. Thumbing through the catalog he finally decides, "I saw an excellent sword at Saburro's that had a perfect balance. I'll purchase it with my bonus, and a tent. I may not like the sleeping quarters they'll provide." Alexi left, wondering what to do with the rest of the money. 'It sure would be nice to spend the money to make more money,' he pondered. 'Now what would be an item of great demand at a far out outpost?' He first thought of the cleric and his desire for strong drink. 'A distillery would be a good investment, but that would require a lot of time and work that I'll not have. So what else?' He mused over what types of people would be there the most. Craftsmen, farmers, miners, and security came to mind. But what he concluded was that an investment in farm and mining equipment would be the best. With Alexi gone, Jet had finally came up with his list. "Hmmm, I believe I will use my company funds on an Alchemist's lab please." Along with the lab equipment, he included 50 gold in raw materials such as yeast, sugar and other ingredients necessary for making his own beverages. The activity within the pavilion itself continued unabated as all manner of trades people, farmers, and the like signed on to the new settlement. Outside the ropes, the crowds began to disperse, leaving only a few disgruntled onlookers to pass judgment on those inside. Beren caught brief snippets of conversation. "Just as well... be Warrds luck if even half o' them make it that far," grumbled one onlooker. "Rest of em'll probably starve over the winter or be eaten by wolves," came a grim reply. After listening for a while longer, Beren decided that he would hear nothing else of major importance, and went in search of an inn. He would have preferred a forest full of trees, but there was a major lack of that in the strange floating city.

Episode 2 Moving Out

The week went by slowly as each of the adventurers anticipated the coming voyage and tried to prepare themselves. Fatine found the Brass Toad Tavern an ideal place with a small courtyard where she worked on training her dogs to do some tricks. She already had trained them to ‘heel’ and ‘guard’ and wanted them to learn to ‘defend’. However, the dogs seemed too distracted by the noises of the streets and the training exercises when poorly. There would be, however, many weeks of travel ahead and much opportunity for further training. So she decided to spend more time exploring the markets for items of interest to her craft and found many of the herbs and other oddities she had seen her 'sisters' use in a variety of concoctions. Mikal spent the week healing the sick at the local infirmary, where there was a steady stream of business from the lower levels of the city where the squalor and filth took their toll on the residents. The evenings he spent sitting in the common room of a tavern here or there telling stories of the places he'd been and practicing his flute, a hobby he picked up recently after being thoroughly entertained by a bard. He wasn’t good at it yet, but he hoped he would be some day. Caelnin found the Peacock Inn to his liking. Stabling his mule he said to her, "Take a nice rest. Big adventure coming up, you better save up your strength." Storing his adventuring gear in his room, he then set off to find a place where he could buy some raw materials for a shortbow for Anrete. After asking a few people in the inn, he found a shop named Fairshot's Bowery and bought some raw materials for an ash shortbow. During the week, he worked on the shortbow, taking breaks by going to an armory and watching them make some armor. Caelnin figured that if he was able to make armor as well, he could set up a one-stop shop for fighting equipment. He finished the bow within the week and spent that last day at the armory, asking questions about armor and how it was made. Alexi spent the week looking at the various blacksmith shops and mercantile stores until he found all he needed. All told, he collected 300gp (175gp of the bonus and 125gp of his own), in plows, hoes, pickaxes, and harnesses, and crated them up. He then looked for a farmer who was going on the trip who he felt he could trust and offered to pay the farmer to haul the goods. Beren spent his time gathering many small, solid sticks he could find and sharpening the ends into a point. Then with twine he bound them together in a criss-cross pattern. Before long, he had a pile of homespun caltrops. They were nothing as good as metal caltrops, but serviceable all the same. The rest of his time was spent checking his gear: sharpening weapons, oiling leather, and in general making sure everything was in good order. Shaking his head, the young barbarian Anrete roamed the city for a suitable performance site. "Now Copper, I've to earn your keep!" Commanding his pony to guard his javelin, Anrete proceeded to attract some attentions. "Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls! Introducing Conan Eterna, Adventurer Extraordinary. I have travelled far and wide, from enigmatic Dirt City to the mysterious Taur Isles! But today I bring you the secret art of the lost Halflings of Red Hills!" The youth with his reddish eyes, yellowed complexion and his long ponytail, was an exotic sight all by himself. ‘Conan’ began his performance by a round-off, which he slipped and barely completed, followed with a back-hand spring and ending with a back-tuck. Despite his initial fumble on his opening, the dexterous rogue managed to recapture the attention of his audience by running along one of the crumbling walls of the street and did a wall spin. He then repeated several wall flips to the applauses of the crowd. "Generous ladies and gentlemen, Conan Eterna would gladly exhibit more of the amazing art of the Lost Halflings of Red Hills. But ah, this workout really bring the thirst in a man.", Anrete grinned dryly. And thus, the nearly penniless youth eked out a meager existence by entertaining the commoners of Floating City, earning just enough for food, lodgings, stabling and the odd jug of ale for the week.

- - - x - - -

On the morning of the planned departure, the skies were grey and clouds hung low over the lake. A cool wind sent paper and other debris rustling down the alleys. As the adventurer's approached the docks the din of animals and stevedores could be heard from a distance. Crowds of onlookers had gathered to take in the excitement, partially blocking the streets leading to the wharf. Beren arose real early, and since his gear had all been prepared the night before, morning only found him lashing it all in place for the trip. Then he made his way to the docks, only to find himself one of the first there. He sat quietly near his horse, Red, and watched the crowds start to gather until he saw the elven archer Caelnin arrive, whereas he stood and followed him. The excellent archer was flamboyant enough to detract attention away from Beren, which was just what he preferred. He did not have to wait long for the travelers to arrive in their carts and wagons carrying all their worldly possessions, and soon the din and clamor appeared to him little more than chaos.

- - - x - - -

Looking at the excited group of people, Caelnin tried to get through them all with Vilria trailing behind. "Excuse me... Sorry... Can I please pass through?... Why didn't I get up earlier? I shouldn't have gone to the tavern with the armor smiths last night... Come on Vilria, don't be frightened. Let's just try and find someone that I know," he said while looking around and tried to hear any familiar voice despite the din. Then Caelnin noticed that Beren was following him, and when Beren caught up with him he said, "Tough Crowd, eh?" and then both of them began pushing their way through the throng, seeing not much but the back of commoner's heads. Mikal was up early also, tending to his horse and getting everything ready. After placing the essentials into his saddle bags, he led his horse towards the docks. He stood in his full glory that day, dressed in the purest of white, his armor gleaming even in the palest of light. His eyes still held the look of caring, however there was something else there, a determination to survive and adventure. Arriving at the docks he stood in the middle, waiting for further orders from the mining company, his head panning left and right to assess the crowd and potential dangers. He was given a wide birth by most. Perhaps they thought him strange, for few would dress so when entering such a dirty environment as the docks. Or maybe they thought him blessed, for despite the grubby stevedores brushing past, and the horses and carts cramming the dockside, he remained unsullied Fatine made her way into the dock area, looking far less upbeat than a week ago. As before, the pair of silent dogs padded softly behind her, but the black crow sat atop her shoulder, calmly nestling her hair, instead of squawking and flitting about. In a rather somber or morose mood, Fatine wandered the dock aimlessly, looking for Tarketh, the herbalist, but he was nowhere to be seen. Alexi tried to sleep the last night at Floating City but had difficulty. He packed all his things early but the excitement was high and the noise in the street seemed overly loud. Sleeping fitfully most of the night he finally gave up around the crack of the false dawn. Gathering all his stuff he went to the stables and after half an hour had Lobo saddled up and ready to go. Breakfast was picked up from a street vendor, some pastry from one and fruit from another. Munching on the fruit he found his way to the docks. Once there he looked for the farmer with his crates and fortunately the familiar looking cart with red-rimmed wheels was easy enough to spot. Alexi was glad to see his farmer friend, Ned. He approached the cart astride Lobo and greeted the farmer. "Good morning, Ned. I trust things are going as good as can be expected. I'll do my best to stick with your family. For now though, I need to check with the Security Officer and see if he needs my help. We certainly could use some crowd control. Too bad this muster wasn't planned on shore." The crate containing his farm implements were visible on the back of the cart.. Verifying that everything was in order there, Alexi trotted off on Lobo, towering above the crowd, looking for the commander of the security forces to see what his orders would be and which unit he would be assigned to. Remembering the two archers he had met on sign-up day, he kept an eye out for them as well. 'These crowds are maddening. How are we to find our place in this mess', he griped to himself. 'Can't wait 'till were outa here and on the road!' Slightly more battered than previously, Anrete rode his big headed, wide-bodied war pony towards the docks. Heads above the rest, he ambled onto the gathering area. He had the best view of all and could see a large man with mutton chops near the back of the docks standing on top of a crate bellowing orders. He was obviously in need of some support if some semblance of order was to be regained. Only slightly hung over from spending a week in taverns, Jet donned his suit of banded armor with the armor spikes on them then covered it with his self designed tabard. He loaded his pack mount with his new alchemist lab equipment and all his other extra gear so as to remain unencumbered while on his warhorse. This packed he headed towards the docks, his steed, Bantom, was ready for war in its chain barding. It snorted in contempt of those that did not move out of its way as it trotted down the street. Jet reigned him in on occasion so as not to trample under the steeds hooves the slower moving crowd. Once on the dock, he watched the chaos that ensued and smiled at the thought of the upcoming adventure. Then spotting the wagons marked for the infirmary to the side and back from the crowd, he went over to verify that his supplies and spare gear were safely stored with the medical supplies as he had instructed. Street urchins darted in and out of the crowds looking for a loose purse or an untended parcel. None ventured close to Fatine despite her improved appearance. The armored cleric and the Mailed Fist soldier were also given wide berth, and few would be able to reach the barbarian astride his steed. The masked elf was a little intimidating, but Mikal appeared less wary, and his lack of attentiveness was easily spotted by a cutpurse. Mikal stood there, surveying the crowd, not really paying any attention to anything at all. His mind wandered to an old song his brother used to sing and he started humming the tune, oblivious of the thief cutting his purse and running off, cackling to himself. With Caelnin pushing ahead, something poked Vilria and she started to grunt, as if she didn't like the predicament that she was in and was about to break out. "Vilria, just stay close and you'll be fine," Caelnin tried to calm her. Also, feeling a bit stressed out, Caelnin started to push his way through the crowd, thinking ‘If asking nicely doesn't work, let's try something different’. Caelnin then shouted as loud as he could while moving through the crowd "Hey! If you ain't going on the mission, move out of the way! Too bad that you didn't make it, just let the people that did through. You'll have to answer to my mule if you don't; and she is getting angry. Move it!" This seemed to have some effect, much as Beren had hoped, and the press of the crowd lessened somewhat. Moving his own horse, Red, to the left of Vilria, forced a wider path than when they were in single file. Still, he hoped to be out of this filthy, cramped city soon. From his vantage point, Alexi noticed another riding a horse, Anrete. Alexi recognized him as one of the ones that was at the shooting gallery at the same time he was there. The one with the puny bow. 'Now what was his name?' Alexi pondered, going over a number of possibilities as he moved his horse through the crowd towards him. He hailed the young man as soon as he got close enough to be heard above the din. "Sir!" Alexi shouted. "Have you received any word as to what we are supposed to do? They didn't warn us of this ruckus! Let's stick together, we can accomplish more!" The young rider saw a heavily armed warrior approach him riding a heavy warhorse in chain barding. He wore a breastplate with the emblem of the Mailed Fist on the front, with an emblem of a wolf underneath. His steel shield shined with the wolf emblem as well. He sported a lance, longsword, flail, handaxe, dagger, and composite short bow. His helmet had a small wolfhead crest. The pedestrians around him give him plenty of room. Anrete had been glaring at the white knight with a disdaining look when Alexi caught his attention. Anrete turned towards the approaching warrior and nodded briefly, his eyes cold. Inclining his head slightly to indicate the mutton chop guy, the battered looking mercenary gave a loud bellow before forcing his way through the crowd, ignoring any protests. Alexi understood Anrete's nod and saw the man on the crates bellowing something that couldn't be heard from their spot. Intentionally knocking down a few of the unfortunate crowds, Anrete bared his gleaming axe and bellowed loudly, "Silence! No questions!" Copper reared up as the savage looking fighter bellowed again, "I will have silence!" Glaring at the commoners around him, Anrete grinned wildly, his eyes filled with bloodlust. Copper neighed with excitement. The two working together make their way easily over to the man on the crates. As soon as the two neared the man atop the crates, his loud voice boomed out, “You! Yes You on the horses!” The heavy set man with the mutton chops pointed directly at Alexi and Anrete. “Get some assistance from those other two and form these people and their belongings into two lines. If they can't prove they belong here, get them off the docks!” The wagon master swept his arm across the crowd until it reached Caelnin and Beren, “You two give them a hand!” Just then a commotion broke out down by the barges. A horse reared, throwing it's rider into the water, and two stevedores rushed to gather in the reins of the frightened beast. The barge heaved up and down in the waves at the foot of the pier. "Yes, Sir!" Caelnin shouted back. Noting the unfortunate rider's misfortune gave him an idea to try and scare the people into a semblance of order. Caelnin reasoned, 'At least it should scare off some people, hopefully... Less people to ask questions to...’ Caelnin then yelled again while pushing his way towards Alexi and Anrete, "Anyone who is found to be not part of the mission may be subjected to what the rider over there experienced! If family members or lovers are sending you off, now's the time to say goodbye! We are almost ready to leave now. We don't need more people that we already have!" Not really liking the attention brought by being chosen to help move out the crowd, Beren obeyed the command of his erstwhile employer. He pulled his staff from amongst his gear and used it to lengthen his arm for attention, and as a threat for obedience if necessary. In a voice unusually loud for the normally quiet elf, he repeated the orders, playing on Caelnin’s words. "Everyone who does belong here, start forming a line for orderly loading! Everyone else, clear the dock or end up in the water!" “Ah, orders at last!” Alexi said triumphantly and took to creating some order with gusto! He moved his horse parallel with Anrete's and with his lance stretched out just above the crowd's heads, he also bellowed, "MAKE A LINE! MAKE A LINE OR THERE WILL BE A FINE! MAKE A LINE OR YOU'LL BE MINE!" and to emphasize his point he bonked an unruly pedestrian on the head with his lance. It occurred to him that he could make good use of his drill sergeant's whistle right about then. Meanwhile, somewhere else lost in the crowd, Fatine stood, aimlessly watching the crowd around her. She kept an eye out for Tarketh but it seemed hopeless to find him. Being a bit too short to see much over the crowd, she sighed and removed a long piece of white chalk from one of her pockets. Pushing people out of the way, she drew a circle on the dock with the chalk, about five feet in diameter. Finished with the circle, she unbuckled her cauldron from one of the dogs' back, placed it in the middle of the circle, and tossed a few ingredients into it from another of her pouches. Pouring a bit of water in from her waterskin, she sat down in front of it and hummed quietly, glaring at those who came too close. Little did they know that all she had done was just toss some trail rations and a few odds and ends from her spell component pouch into the cauldron. All she wanted was for people to think she was up to something weird so they would give her enough free space to relax and wait for things to settle down, knowing that Tarketh would have to pass by her on the way to the ferries. Despite a crowd swirling around her, a small child stopped and stood at the edge of the chalk circle. As a harried mother swooped down to retrieve the child, the tot pointed to the steaming cauldron and asked, "Soup?" Fatine smiled at the little one, sighing that her ruse was seen through by one so young. Mikal, noticing how more quickly people were getting through the crowd on horse, mounted up on his and attempted to make some headway.

- - - x - - -

A sharp command and those signed on to provide security demonstrated that they were equal to the task. Though some threats were taken more seriously than others, the added benefit of height provided by their mounts and sharp words and weapons shooed folks into a vague line, and a certain order started to form. Alexi looked over his shoulder often to see if the line that started to form also started to deform and backed Lobo up to straighten it out again with some very terse words! Well wishers fell back as creaking wagons, the occasional mounted rider, and folks on foot weaved their way towards the end of the dock and the ferries that would bear them from the Floating City across the lake to the Crying Woods and the start of their journey across land. Animals grow skittish as they approached the ramps leading to the rocking barges resting uneasily on the grey waves of the lake. Then, at the foot of a ramp some kind of commotion broke out behind a wagon packed high with lumber. Caelnin and Beren were the closest and were able to see and hear much of what was causing the crowd to make a circle. A young human woman of considerable beauty was struggling to get away from a man who was holding her by the wrists and trying to drag her out of the line boarding a ferry. He was yelling, "Lollena! Come with me. This is foolishness. It is all arranged......our parents.....my wife...." and the young woman responded, "No! Let me go!....don't love you!" ‘Looks like trouble’ Caelnin thought. ‘Better have a closer look,’ and pushed his way through over to the disgruntled couple and asked, "What is happening here, Miss?" Beren followed right behind. ‘It seems as if someone is having second thoughts about an arranged marriage. Humans truly are a strange race,’ he thought. The domestic squabble continued as the young woman struggled to free her arm from the grasp of a well heeled young man. "Let me go!" she rebuked him. "I hardly know you and just because my father thinks you will make a fine husband doesn't mean I do!" Jet settled into the saddle of his steed, content to watch the proceedings and be the last to board the vessel, spotted the commotion that the couple were causing and that two security guards were trying to intervene. ‘This is more the job of a priest’, he thought, and trotted his mount over to the now open space around the four. "In the name of Flower young man,” he bellowed to get their attention, “it is better to be blessed to find true love with a woman that wishes to share your company at night, then to have a woman you will force to worship Jacassis and might slit your throat as you sleep after you rape her." His words seemed to ring much louder in his head due to his hangover than outside and wasn’t sure how it had come out. Either way, he thought, he would not allow the man to take her against her will. He did, however, catch the attention of Anrete. Frowning slightly, he gave a snort before guiding Copper towards the couple. Glaring at the two of them, the badly scarred barbarian rudely indicated that they should settle their dispute at a corner, and not block the way. "There will be no disturbance on my watch! And watch that hand, before I remove it!" The arrival of the Security clearly unsettled the young man and he let go of the woman's arm. He did NOT however back down. "Lollena is promised to me!" he cried. "Why don't you just mind your own business!" Alexi was very pleased at the order their group of Security men had imposed on what appeared to be a hopeless situation. Things had calmed down so much so that the din had subsided enough for Alexi to catch a commotion. Edging Lobo around a little to see past an over laden cart he caught the view of a woman and man struggling, the woman trying to go towards the ferry, the man trying to pull her away. "What a lass," Alexi whistled quietly. Their exasperations at each other clearly rang across the crowds as others quieted down to observe the drama. Alexi chuckled as he understood the dilemma now. He himself would have been set up in an arranged marriage had he been promoted further in the Mailed Fist. His rank as sergeant, though, would not allow a marriage into the higher society his father had aspired him to marry into, so that was that. 'Well, I don't know the laws of Floating City,' he thought, 'so no point in getting involved unless there's a risk of bodily harm. Ah, never mind, looks like our Security is doing a good job over there anyway. Better make sure things stay ship-shape on this side.' So Alexi went back to monitoring the line. But since there was some good order there, he was able to keeping an eye on how the situation was being handled. Beren was in the same mind as Alexi. After seeing that it was just a domestic squabble, and others were trying to handle things already, he saw no need to draw unwanted attention to himself and turned his back on the two to try to deal with keeping the crowd moving and not exacerbate the bottleneck. Spotting the stout woman he had seen the day of the recruiting fair, and her six 'daughters' having a little trouble, he helped her get in a line. The woman had claimed she would be establishing a boarding house to be maintained by her daughters and herself for the purpose of meeting the needs of the single male laborers in need of domestic comforts. As he helped, the ranger spotted what looked like the apparatus for distilling spirits peeking out from under the large tarp covering their wagon. He smiled to himself as he thought ‘This lady and her daughters will surely see to the needs of the single men.’ Mikal, however, was curious, and maneuvered his horse to the edge of the circle and watched. The widening circle around the arguing couple caused the crowd to be pushed into Fatine’s chalk circle and her whole exercise in trying to stay apart from the crowd became futile. Standing, she dusted off her skirts then perked up as she noticed the cause. She picked up her cauldron, snapped her fingers and edged towards the scene. The dogs jumped up and followed. As people made room for her, she saw the man and woman arguing, with the Security men, some she had met the week before, try to diffuse the situation. Pulling one of the dolls off her belt she held it up. Muttering a few words, she twisted the head of the cloth doll and pointed it at the man. The young man shuddered momentarily, as if disturbed by something unseen. "Now stop this foolishness and come with me!" he grabbed Lollena's arm again and tried to drag her from the line. Lollena looked wide-eyed at those around her, silently imploring them to intercede. Fatine put her doll away, looking a bit surprised that the man had not succumbed to her Sleep spell. Composing herself, she gave a loud "Harrummpphhh!" and walked quickly away, thinking she would look for Tarketh instead of waiting for him to pass by. Her obedient dogs at heel, she was unable to see through the wagons and various travelers on mounts and on foot, but she lightened up as she was quite sure she could hear the herbalist's unmistakable elven voice calling her name above the noise. Tossing her arm into the air, Fatine sent her crow flying. "Darketh!" she called. "Herbalist!" The crow flitted off, squawking loudly. Fatine wondered whether it cared about the request at all. Then she closed her eyes and focused on Tarketh's voice, attempting to discern his location in the mass of people. Caelnin quickly tried to diffuse the situation. ‘He obviously loves her... Let's see if this works...,’ he thought and then tried to make the man listen to him for a moment. "You love her, do you not? And she doesn't believe that you love her..." He thought for a moment and added "Let's make a compromise. What if she was to go on this mission, and once the two years were up, she came back and sees what you have been up to”. Then turning to the lady he said, “Now, Lollena, if he were to adore and love you without seeing or marrying another woman, will you not think that he is deserving of you?” Then looking back at the man he asked, “And, if you love her so, will you be able to abstain from meeting another woman?" A crazy laugh erupted from the battle-scarred barbarian at Caelnin’s words as he dismounted his copper-coated mare. But his laughter soon turned into a beastly snarl as bloodlust roared into his fiery, yet ancient eyes. With his razor-sharp tomahawk held loosely in his hand, Anrete approached the young man and tried to curb his urge to kill. "No. Kwahamot thirsts for blood! No!" Anrete growled before glaring menacingly at the couple. "Lady Lollena is an employee of the Company. Her contract is binding for two years. I will not permit any interference," the unbalanced barbarian whispered in a harsh unnatural tone. Raising his wicked orcish handaxe, Anrete took a step towards the young man, his eyes burning with a cold inhuman fury. "That is correct!" Jet said forcefully. "If you will not have compassion in the name of Flower, you will obey the law of Pantheon. Release her now, or else!" He snarled with his last words and edges Bantom up next to the man threateningly. "He is right!" Lollena responded, wrenching free of her would-be suitor's grasp. "I have pledged two years to the settlement. I am as good a seamstress as any!" Alexi was moving about the lines but his curiosity was strong as he saw the various Security people trying to deal with the couple. However he had moved to far away to hear what was being said and when he saw Anrete, handaxe waving in the air, Alexi became alarmed. 'Our job isn't to be bullies, we can't just force the lad away by brute force', he quickly surmised. Nudging Lobo back over to the dispute, he caught the last of Jet’s words 'Release her now or else!' "HOLD! Everybody, just settle down!" Alexi came barreling up. As eyes turned to him he continued. "There must be some precedence to this, a situation similar to this to base our judgment. Young man, your name!" “Robert,” the man said, starting to waver. "Robert, do you love her or is this a marriage of convenience? If you love her, perhaps you should go with her! Why AREN'T you with her? Does she hate this marriage so much that she is willing to risk an extremely hazardous two year commitment that other strong-willed men cringe at, and ALONE! Will you NOT sign up with her? If not, what will it take to annul the betrothal? What payments have been made to formalize the betrothal? You'll not be a happy man with a woman who hates you. She'll just run off at first chance. I'm willing to do what it takes to annul this betrothal in a manner both parties can live with. And the Word of the Fist is as good as Gold." 'Not that I have THAT much gold,' Alexi joked to himself, but hoped the man would come to his senses. Jet fumed as his attempt to intimidate the man was likely ruined by the Mailed Fist. His snarl did not change as his anger was redirected to Alexi, yet Jet remained silent as he waited to see what the jackal harassing the girl had to say. As Alexi continued, he just rolled his eyes at the thought of this girl’s chores being ruined by the typical boyfriend harassing her at work. "What is your social status Robert?” Alexi asked. “If I made contact with the Mailed Fist, and they pulled some strings, would you be willing to marry UP?" The Mailed Fist was never into being Matchmaker, but Alexi hoped that the bait would be too good for the young man to realize this. 'I can but try,' he mused, 'writing a letter to my commanding officer, and ask. And I'll be gone at least two years. If the man hasn't found another woman that will take him by then, he's just a sorry bloke that's better off single.' Beren, not too far away in the crowd, just shook his head, ‘What fools the humans are. Do they not realize that liaisons are only temporary? They will only be together at the most a matter of 30-40 years,’ but continued to watch and listen. "I've got a good thing here in the city!" Robert retorted. "You're a fool to leave, Lollena. You'll not last a fortnight with this lot," he called while backing way from the guards, before disappearing into the crowd. Alexi stifled a snort as the young man showed his true colors. It was clear the man wanted Lollena for her beauty, not for love, and would probably treat her as property. The blonde haired Lollena gave her thanks to her rescuers but looked worried. "I really must board one of the ferries!" She exclaimed anxiously looking about. Trembling slightly from his leashed fury, Anrete turned away from the youth with a great sigh as he melded into the crowd - the bloodlust fading away as swiftly as it had come. With another great laugh, the eccentric outlander started to stride away. Not forgetting the laugh that he received from Anrete, Caelnin took out the shortbow that he had made caught Anrete’s attention and said to him, "Ahhh... True love is one of the strongest emotions. I just wanted to see if he was willing to stay true to his interest in Lollena. Being such a youth, I knew that he wouldn't be willing to make such a commitment. Anyway, here's the bow that made you. Hope it shoots a little bit better..." Anrete paused for awhile, pondering, when the elven archer presented the bow promised to him. With a semi-puzzled expression Anrete nodded slightly as he examined the bow. The barbarian's ardor for battle subsided as he turned the finely crafted weapon in his hands. He had never had anything so finely made before.

Then Caelnin turned to Lollena. "Let me help you fair lady. Let's see if I can spot a ferry that isn't full yet."

Jet watched with a wry smile as Lollena's suitor beat a hasty retreat when challenged to join the excursion and prove his love. Holding his position, he continued to wait for others to board, keeping an eye out for Robert. "I think he will be back, and likely with some help," Jet told the others. "Good riddance!" Alexi exclaimed. Then turning to Lollena he offered his help, "My Lady, perhaps your suitor will return, as the cleric here suggested. It would be wise that one of us escort you until we reach the other side. Looks like things are getting in pretty good shape here and I offer my assistance as well." Alexi dismounted and introduces himself, taking her hand in the chivalrous fashion. Slightly bowing and giving a light kiss on her hand he said, "Alexi Komonv at your service, my lady. Let's go find a ferry." Lollena graciously accepted the help and Caelnin rounded up the woman's belongings, while Alexi helped Lollena onto Lobo. Thus they made their way quickly through the crowd and had no trouble finding an empty space on a barge with several carts and wagons, one of which appeared to contain a great many farm implements. With the lady settled in for the crossing, Alexi bid her farewell and promised to check up on her during the trip. He then returned to the crowd and continued to maintain order until it was his turn to leave. Caelnin, though, fetched Vilria and led her to Lollena’s barge to keep her company, just in case Robert should return. By then the waters had begun to get choppy, but Vilria eagerly complied with Caelnin's commands to walk across the slightly swaying plank. "That was easier than expected", he said as the mule clomped onto the barge. Excited about the adventure unfolding, Caelnin couldn’t sit down. He then tried to calm Vilria as the barge swayed. "You have never gotten used to being on water, have you. It's alright, try looking at the horizon. It will make you feel better” Caelnin whispered as he patted her on the head.

Mikal nodded to himself as the situation resolved itself. Not wanting to hang around any longer than necessary, he decided to go and find the clerics wagon. While he searched, he thought about what his life would have been like if he never joined the church. What if he had become a real adventurer, one that didn't follow anything? The thought of what he might have been made him smile.

The noise and din of the docks continued unabated as animals were pressed to move onto the barges and stevedores and bargemen scurried about ensuring that loads were secured. The language of the docks was colorful and uncultured. Mikal searched the docks for signs of a cleric's wagon but the crowds were too thick. Only when he overheard a muttered prayer to Domi, seeking guidance, did he see a dwarf clad in chain with a thick leather mantle draped over his shoulder. The dwarf was seated on a wooden crate and was looking out over the lake. Meanwhile, Fatine wandered the dock area searching for Tarketh and calling his name, but the druid was nowhere to be found. Her raven flew above but only seemed bemused by all the activity below. The witch grew frustrated by her inability to search out her mentor, but unasked, a thin man standing by a wagon full of lumber and carpentry equipment piped up, "If you're looking for the Herbalist, he's down by that last barge on the left. Better hurry or you'll miss him. It looks near ready to sail." Fatine threw a half-smile at the man and began to weed her way to the last barge along the pier, keeping an eye open for Tarketh. She finally located Tarketh, who was strapping down the last of a few crates to metal rings on the decking. The witch managed to escort her horse and the rest of her menagerie aboard just as the bargeman pushed off from shore. Her companions aboard the vessel gave her a wide berth. The rest of the loading went without further incident. Beren found himself helping load barges, ensuring that carts and wagons safely negotiated the ramps and gangways leading to each ferry. A bargeman helped direct the loading, ensuring proper distribution of weight aboard the barge. "No! Move those over to starboard and make room at the back for the large wagon! Wouldn'a want to tip her out in deep water would we?" He smiled encouragingly at Beren as he called out instructions. The work continued for several hours as barges were loaded and slipped from port. In time, only a pair of barges remained to take the last remaining wagons, carts and settlers across to the Crying Woods. With only a few stragglers left to board, the adventurers finally made for the last two barges moored side by side heaving in the swell. "Right, you lot!" the wagonmaster called out. "Better get yourself stowed away and ready to cast off, and mind yourself getting aboard, these swells aren't getting any smaller!" Mikal was the first to respond and walked his horse towards the planks. The horse didn't feel too good about crossing the heaving planks and reared up once on the planks when the ferry rocked. Mikal attempted to calm his horse, but failed as it reared up further and threw him into the water. "Help!" was the only word he could get out before he dipped into the water. He went under, taking a large mouth full of lake water and nearly gagging. He struggled with the weight of his armor, weapons and equipment trying to swim towards the surface. Nearby, Jet heard the cry for help and taking his rope from the horn of his saddle he threw it to Mikal, lasso style, then wrapped the other end to the saddle horn to use his horse to help pull Mikal out. Mikal reached for the rope and grabbed it, managing to hang on for dear life as the horse began to pull him out of the water. With Mikal trying to grab Jet’s rope, Beren started to move across the ramp with Red. But this wasn’t a good idea as the horse, distracted by the Mikal’s splashing, reared up as well as it started to cross. Luckily the agile elf was able to keep his balance and not join the unfortunate in the water. But Beren had to lead Red aside to calm it down and try again in a few moments. Over her shoulder, Fatine caught sight of a rearing horse as it resisted being led aboard a barge some 60 feet away. A loud splash followed by heavy cursing, indicating that at least one person had slipped from the gangway. Likewise, Caelnin observed the ruckus from aboard the barge he had embarked on with Lollena. Fatine leaned on the side of the barge, watching the goings-on back at the dock. Looking at a farmer next to her, she pointed back at the man in the water and barked a laugh. "Dat be our Security! Ye be lucky, big man. Ye got on dee right boat, wit' ol' Fatine." She flashed him a smile, making a few of the pieces of metal adorning her face clink lightly, then walkd away. "Darketh!" she called. "Let's do some herbalisin'! Fatine need someting to pass dee hours." The druid reached into his cloak and pulled out a handful of dried seeds wild mustard seeds which, when ground, would be used in poultices and salves. "Know what these are?" he asked as he deposited the seeds in her hand and awaited a response from his new pupil. Fatine handed them for moment, looking closely at the seeds, the frowned. She had to think quick, for she didn’t want to appear ignorant. "Dese are . . . dey are . . . ." Then Fatine began swaying back and forth a bit. "Oh, Master Darketh! Fatine cannot even tink straight, wit' dis bouncing barge! I feel . . . someting is . . . I believe I must sit down . . . ." Truth of the matter was, she didn’t have a clue and pretended to be seasick to cover up her lack of knowledge. With Jet pulling Mikal onto the pier and Beren trying to steady his horse, Anrete nonchalantly lead his sure-footed steppe pony onto the planks and crosses to the barge. By now Mikal had flopped onto the pier and gasped "Thank you..... I would have sunk to the bottom of the lake without your help." Closing his eyes he tried to catch his breath before sitting up and looking around for his horse. With Mikal out of the water Beren tried again to get Red on board but the horse was still spooked and he to make a quick move again to avoid ending up in the water like Mikal. Now it was Jet’s turn while Beren once more tried to quiet down Red. He managed to get his packhorse, Vaya, across easily enough but Bantom resisted, shying away from the undulating planking and with a toss of his head bumped Jet sufficiently enough to dump him in the water also. Alexi had reined up about the time Jet was rescuing Mikal, tired and ready to get to land. Dismounting, he was busy giving Lobo some attention, an apple, when the disturbing splashing noise caught his attention and noticed Jet’s horse cantering off to a corner of the pier. Armored men in water is not a casual matter and Alexi quickly retrieved his silk rope from his saddle bag and rushed to the edge of the docks. Throwing the rope he exclaimed jokingly, "Holy Mermen!" Looking over the water fight that the group seemed to be having, Caelnin sighed, "Some of them can be a bit hopeless at times, can't they. Oh well, hopefully they will become better as time goes on." As their barges were towed out to deeper water, the others watched in amusement the loading fiasco back on the dwarf even as distance prevented seeing anything specific. Turning away from the railing, Caelnin politely asked Lollena to watch over Vilria for a moment as he looked around the barge. "Nothing interesting happening..." Caelnin muttered as he finished circling the barge. He then thanked Lollena for minding Vilria and found a place to sit, looking out into the distance so he wouldn’t get seasick. Shading his eyes he looked in the direction of the opposing shore. Judging by the speed of the vessel and the distance to the far shore, he believed calculated they would have to endure only one or two hours aboard the pitching ferry. Meanwhile, with Alexi’s help, the large fighter-priest clambered up the quay and laughed out loud at his embarrassment. Then a look of horror appeared as he started looking to see if he had lost anything. Satisfied that all was in order, although wet, he grabbed his skin and his smile returned as he took a large gulp before standing up again. Now Beren tried again and finally he was able to bring his horse under control and crossed over to the barge with a sigh of relief! Securing Red with the other horses on the barge he then moved back to the gangway to assist if anyone else ended up in the water, staying to one side, wrapped in his cloak, and trying to avoid attention. The Wagon Master was beside himself and couldn't decide whether to laugh out loud at the ridiculousness of the scene before him, or berate the adventurer's for the sloppy handling of their animals. While Jet went to fetch Bantom, Alexi took the hint and spent the few minutes it would take to remove his breastplate, the heaviest and most cumbersome part of his armor. While doing this he was looking around and noticed that Caelnin wasn't with them. Word had it that he had boarded the barge with Lollena. "What a rascal! So I escort her and find a barge, and HE hops on! I'll have to keep an eye on that one!" He smiled then attempted the crossing, leading Lobo. However, part way over the barge gave a heave and the planks swayed dangerously. Alexi managed to catch himself, the added mobility of not having a breastplate greatly aided him in keeping his balance on the narrow, slippery walkway. Steadying himself, Alexi attempted to calm Lobo down and get him across again. "What th..." Alexi began, exasperated. 'Lobo knows better than this!' went through his mind as the horse shied back again, forcing Alexi once more to try to keep his balance. A third splash erupted as this time Alexi found himself in the frigid water. Sputtering, he worked at keeping his head up and sputtered, "You'd better not be laughing, Lobo!" Alexi smartly swam to the pier ladder and clambered up while Lobo headed over to the corner where Bantom was. "Bantom! Stay!" Jet shouted as he grabbed reins, hopping he wouldn’t need to chase the horse around the docks. "What the Hades is wrong with you, eh? You know better then this and I trained you to obey me!" Leading Bantom back towards the barge again he glanced at Lobo, pawing the deck planking and wondered about Alexi. However the fighter’s head popped up from the pier ladder so he continued to the barge. Bantom reared again and Jet let go of the reigns, this time fast enough to avoid being butted into the brink again. "Bantom, what in Hades is your problem?" Jet shouted. One of the dock workers came to help but Jet gently pushed the man away, "Not with this my friend, now he's challenging me." Alexi took his helmet off and shook his head to shed excess water form his hair to keep any from dripping in his eyes, then returned to Lobo quietly. He took another apple out of the saddle bag and offered it while gently leading the horse back to the barge. ‘When I first came to Floating City, it was a calm day with little commotion, thus Lobo had no problems. But apparently all the crowds and noises has unsettled Lobo a bit. Add the bobbing barge to the equation and I can see why he is having troubles,’ he thought. He wasn't sure whether his stomach would appreciate the bobbing either! Trying to keep Lobo's attention on the apple, he started across. ‘Yahooooo!’ Alexi exploded quietly as his technique worked. Lobo ambled across the gangplank munching on apple and only realized he was across when it was too late. Alexi chuckled, then called across the water at Jet, "If you'd like me to help with your horse, let me know!" Just in case, he stood ready with rope in hand for the next belly-flopper. The Wagon Master was now extremely furious and yelled out to Jet, "Stop mucking about and get that brute aboard or the both of ye will find yerself swimming to the other side!" Jet was not pleased with the antics of his mount, but he was even less pleased with the words of the wagon master. "Tend to your own duties! We'll be aboard when we are aboard!" Jet shouted back with impatience. He turned back to Bantom and admonished the horse, "Hear that? You’re going to be a very expensive steak if you continue to act like this, my friend." Finally Jet followed Mikal’s successful loading and settled onto the barge with a much calmer Bantom and Vaya. He anticipated a face to face with the wagon master, but was unconcerned about such matters. Nothing a good drink and a few rounds of fisticuffs wouldn't settle when the opportunity presented itself. Jet just realized then that that was his problem. He hadn't been in a good fist fight in months. He thought back to his day in the streets when it was nearly an every day occurrence he would get into one. Those were the days of recklessness and ferocity. Those were also the days of hunger and feeling alone. ‘I guess you can't have one without the other, in any case,’ he thought as he was reminded of his old mentor’s words. Still, a smack in the mouth keeps one in the moment. Happy that all were aboard, with their mounts, and none at the bottom of the lake, Alexi settled in. He first finished removing the rest of his armor so his clothes could dry properly. He then dried his armor off as well so it wouldn't rust. Then he packed it away, figuring he wouldn't need it aboard the barge. 'Once ashore I'm sure to have some time to put it on while things get moving,' he figured. He then watched as the barge moved forward. He stilled his stomach as it lurched. After a few moments his stomach settled down and he just enjoyed the ride, keeping an eye on the horses and occasionally checking on them. "They can be bratty when in a group", he told a Mikal, who was also checking on his horse. "Nipping here, stomping there." Mikal nodded and then proceeded to dry his armor off also with a cloth from his saddle bags. This was when he noticed for the first time that his purse was missing along with all its contents. He quickly inspected the rest of his gear, grumbling to himself about loosing his purse. That was the rest of his life savings! He sighed deeply and let it go, reminding himself that money had no use where they were going. Fortunately he found nothing else missing.

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