Within sight of Eastfair, capital city of the North Province of the Great Kingdom, a lone man has emerged from his roadside home and accosted the party. Based on the cryptic phrases he and Greythur spoke, it's clear that he is a priest of Fharlanghn-- or at least knows how to act like one. man: Come, take rest and refreshment in my home. I am called Ivanos. Ajax: Glad to! (he leans down and mutters in Greythur's ear) One false move and we'll disembowel him faster than you can say "Ouch, my intestines are missing." Ivanos: Have no fear, hobniz. You have been lucky thus far, to have come from what must be far away, garbed in this manner. Tell me your tale, and I will tell you of the Granite City-- for it is no place to tread lightly. (he starts to lead the way into his house, pausing at the door) Rimli: (a touch nervous but nevertheless ready to rapidly carry out Ajax's threat) Autumn: The priest did say rest, refreshment, and information. Sounds like a good deal all around. (she enters his home without hesitation) Rimli: (scanning the road and the surroundings for anything out of place-- aside from himself and travelling companions) I'll tell y' a thing 'r twain, aye... Greythur: (puts his hand on Rimli's axe arm-- both of them) Please, friend. If he wanted to do us harm all he had to do was let us pass and inform the local soldiery. Besides... he has shown the proper tokens of a servant of the Wanderer. We have nothing to fear in this house. Rimli: (not entirely convinced, and not too quietly) Aye, unless 'e wants us f'r 'iself.... Greythur: (mumbling to himself) You can take the dwarf out of the battle... but not the battle out of the dwarf.... Rimli: Huh? Wha's tha'? Greythur: (his reverie broken) What? Oh... just a silent prayer for our safety here. Rimli: Ye'd best make it louder. No 'fense, but I nae trust this bloke farther than I c'n throw 'im. Ajax: (butting in between the two) But you have to admit, you could probably throw him pretty far. Rimli: (considers this) Aye.... Tasencia: (gently jumping from her horse, glad to walk again with her own two feet, she follows Autumn's lead) We would be honored to receive your hospitality this day. Alenniel: (gathers the horses) Is there a good place for our horses to rest? Ajax: (rubbing his bottom) Is there a good place for US to rest? Dwarves simply cannot drive horses properly. Ivanos: Certainly. I will see to the horses-- I have a way with them-- while you make yourselves at home inside. I will join you presently. Ajax: (entering the house, he suddenly draws his sword and then props it inside the door along with his bow) Rimli: (suspicious to the core, he waits by the door, axe held casually in one hand, unwilling to enter until Ivanos does) Ivanos seems true to his word: he leads the horses around to the rear of the small building, where he tethers and waters them, and the returns to the front door some ten minutes later. Rimli: (speaks gruffly to Ivanos as he returns) Wha' care 'ave y' f'r outlanders such as ourselves, man? Ivanos: (smiles) As one who has wandered the continent, and a priest of the Dweller on the Far Horizon, I am always interested in meeting travellers. Come, dwur, leave your suspicions on the road. Rimli follows man into the house where the rest of the party is already gathered. It's a simple structure, consisting of perhaps two or three rooms. The front door opens into a common room, strewn with worn but comfortable cushions and chairs. Tacked up on one wall are a few maps of the region and of the continent. One shows the borders of the North Province extending all the way north and west to the foothills of the Rakers, apparently drawn before the area known as the Bone March fell to humanoids in the early part of the decade; a corrective red line has been carefully drawn in, presumably by Ivanos, to indicate the province's shifting border. All are marked and dotted here and there at locations of special interest, although not all their meanings are clear at first glance. Several knick-knacks and odd bits of unfamiliar art, obviously gleaned from foreign lands and cultures, are haphazardly placed about the room in an accidentally-aesthetic attempt to spruce up the place. A closed door stands directly opposite the front door, and wide windows of isenglass open to the sides and front of the house. Altogether, it's a little too small to accomodate seven people, but with a cozy feeling (for those who can appreciate such subtleties) rather than a cramped one. Tasencia: By what trade are you? And how do you know of the Granite City? Autumn: (grins) Perhaps he knows about the city because he lives so close to it. Ivanos: Astute observation. I was once a messenger, and traveled frequently to far off lands such as Ket and Keoland. In those days I called upon Fharlanghn out of daily necessity, and devoted myself to his ways. Now, I am older and have settled down somewhat. I still pay him homage, though, in a sedentary way. I am a cobbler. (he grins) Every traveler needs shoes. Ajax: Nice place you've got here, Mr. Ivanos. Is there a Mrs. Ivanos about? (he sniffs lightly) Ivanos: Er, no, actually. By the time I had spent my youth roaming the Flanaess, I'm afraid I grew rather accustomed to being alone. But enough talk! You look road-weary and hungry. What can I get for you from the cellar? Greythur: (in a good-humored attempt to test the man's resources) Celenian wine? Tasencia: Excellent choice. Alenniel: Agreed! Ivanos: (without a second thought) Done. Greythur: (impressed) Autumn: All the way from Celene, eh? How exotic! I'll have some of that too. Rimli: 'Ave ye got any dwarven ale sittin' in tha' cellar o' yers? Ivanos: Ah! I have a prized cask of ale from Eastfair that cannot fail to please. Rimli: (grudgingly) Aye... 'at'll do. Ajax: Och! Make that two. Ivanos disappears through the other door and returns presently with two small casks, one under each arm, which he proceeds to partially empty into six wooden cups. Ivanos: Forgive the crudeness of the drinking vessels. They're actually quite interesting, in point of fact. They're carved from phostwood, and preserved by gnomish ingenuity. At night, they can be seen to glow faintly. Ajax: Glowing cups... hmm.... (he starts thinking about the possibilities of exporting a hundred or so to the Dewdrop) Greythur: So tell us friend Ivanos, how is it that worship of the Traveler on the Far Horizons survives in this accursed kingdom? Ivanos: You have perhaps met with others who respect the Wanderer, I imagine. Greythur: (nods in affirmation) Ivanos: Well, you must remember, my lad, that while Fharlanghn is worshipped by travelers throughout the known world, it was the Oeridians-- the same people that founded the Kingdom of the Aerdy, and that of Nyrond-- who first paid him heed. Old habits die hard. Besides, wherever men and women roam the Oerth, there is need for the favor of the Wanderer. Greythur: How do you manage not to attract unwanted attention as a priest? Ivanos: It's not difficult. To most, I am but a simple cobbler, which is as I would have it. Many who travel this road still respect the Wanderer, and they are not difficult to recognize. Still, it is impossible for me to be completely open about my religion. Worship of any god besides that abominable Hextor is, for all intents and purposes, outlawed. Rimli: Hextor... bah! (he spits in disgust) Ivanos: In theory, the Overking and the Herzog allow some limited worship of deities besides Hextor, but in practice... well, that's quite another story. Autumn: Why do you stay here, if it's so horrible? Ivanos: (shrugs) It's my home. I don't approve of the Herzog's policies, certainly, and though I'm only one man I try to do my part. Troops passing along this road find themselves poorly favored by the Wanderer, I can tell you. (he grins) That explains my presence here, but yours is still a mystery. Greythur: We seek a lost companion who we believe is somewhere near the coast. Ajax: (interjecting helpfully) He's a really big Elf. Kinda homely. Carries a lot of weapons. Greythur: Our dilemma is how best to arrive there. Overland or by boat. What are the lands like between here and the coast? Ivanos: (opens his mouth) Ajax: (interrupting) Any halflings hereabouts? (he looks around as if they might suddenly appear) Ivanos: (his train of thought is derailed by the halfling's sudden query) Uh... no, not as such. None that are native to this area, at any rate. In the hills to the north there may still be a few scattered communities, but the fall of the Bone March heralded a dark time for them. (he sighs and shakes his head) Still, Eastfair is populated by all manner of folk, both fair and foul-- though most are of the latter category, to be honest-- including the odd hobniz or two. Ajax: (considers this) Hmm... just the odd ones, eh? Autumn: (smiles wryly) What other kind is there? Greythur: (grabs Ivanos' attention once more) Getting back to my question.... Ivanos: Yes, of course. (he walks over to the area map of the North Province, and visually refers to it as he speaks) Fortunately, travel along the Trask to the coast should be relatively expedient. Unfortunately, anyone who would be willing to offer you passage on a barge or keelboat would probably be less than trustworthy. What's more, Atirr can be a difficult city even to pass through. It's population differs from the rest of the North Province in almost every major aspect-- politically, racially, religiously-- and tend to be suspicious and unfriendly when it comes to "outsiders." Alenniel: I think we're used to that by now. Ivanos: Ah, but these folk don't even get on well with the rest of their nation. "The Pride of the East," they call it. There has been hushed talk lately, rumors of secession and an alliance with Ratik against the Herzog, which makes it an especially dangerous time to dally there. (he pauses in thought) Still, if you're clever, this can be used to your advantage. It's a matter of being on the right side, although that's more difficult than it sounds. Ajax: The whole _thing_ sounds more difficult than it sounds.... Ivanos: If you can gain acceptance in Atirr, though, acquiring passage on a coaster should be relatively easy. Where was it you said you were headed? Greythur: (he trades glances with the others) We're not entirely sure, actually. All we know is that he's somewhere in the Gull Cliffs, so I'd planned on landing in Roland. Ivanos: Hmm.... It's certainly a well-used port, so there should be no difficulty there, but I advise you move through it as quickly as possible. Roland is... peculiar. Rolanders speak an odd dialect which is difficult for even other Aerdy to understand, let alone Westerners like yourselves. Rimli: (grumbling into his ale) _North_westerners.... Greythur: I had overheard once that the our priests have a "cell" there. While I know not how to contact them, I'd hoped they might help us return to the Rakers with our friend. Ivanos: It's true, Fharlanghn's faith is strong there, as is Procan's. It is my understanding that what you say is true, although I know nothing of it first-hand. Rimli: Wha' abou' takin' th' Flanmi south, an' trekkin' o'erland t' th' Cliffs? Ivanos: That _may_ be slightly more expedient-- the Trask is a swift river, to be sure-- but as one approaches the Malachite Throne, free travel becomes more and more regulated. What's more important to you, getting there quickly, or maintaining a low profile? Greythur: Let's just say we'd like to avoid any Imperial entanglements. Ivanos: Understood. My advice? Take the Trask to the coast. You should be able to find more information about hiring a vessel in Eastfair. If things go well, you may not only reach your goal unharmed, but you may also find an ally or two along the way. Alenniel: (nods) Helpful, for when we wish to return. Ivanos: If you don't mind my asking, who is this friend of yours? Why do you seek him, and what does he in the Gull Cliffs? (he takes a seat and prepares to listen) Greythur: (takes a deep breath and exhales) Well.... Together, the six of you bombard Ivanos with your tale, interrupting each other frequently as each desires to have his or her own experiences and perspective thrown into the mix and finding it necessary to recount events almost back to the very beginning of your association together. He takes quite and interest, and as events verbally wind their way to the present you are struck by just how much you've all been through in the relatively short time you've known one another. Ivanos: So... this journey of yours is a tribulation in more ways than one. Not only must you cross a hostile nation to the edge of the very continent to find your friend, but once you find him you must bring him before the judgment of dwur law, possibly to face the headsman's axe. Rimli: (somberly) Aye... bu' Keldorn's a just ruler, when 'e 'as 'is 'ead abou' 'im, an' 'e said 'e'd 'elp Ozzy, if 'e could. Ivanos: What is worse, though? For him to be insane, or for him to be in full command of his wits and a cold-hearted murderer? Tasencia: That is a dilemma we have yet to face. Ivanos: I wish you luck. This is not an easy task. (he sighs) I'd like to help, if I can, even if it's in some minor way. If you truly wish to travel these lands with as little incident as possible, you'll need to make a few changes to your appearance. Tasencia: (raises an eyebrow) Such as? Ivanos: Firstly, do not display your holy symbols openly. Doing so is tantamount to asking for attention and trouble. Greythur: Understood. Ivanos: Wearing armor or weapons within city walls is likewise dangerous. Conceal your armaments if you must, but be warned that doing so is a punishable offense, and the laws here are harsh and strictly enforced. If you check them with the guards at Great Gate, rest assured they'll still be there when you return. Though the city has an unpleasant air and an evil ruler, its guards are rigid adherents to the law. Rimli: (wondering how to conceal his axe) Ivanos: Try to speak as little as possible to anyone in Eastfair. This may sound extreme, and there will surely be times when speech is an absolute necessity, but your accents definitely mark you as foreigners. In Roland, however, don't even bother to conceal them. That city is full of enough travelers from distant lands that none will mark them as out of the ordinary. Autumn: Let me get this straight. You mean for us to go into Eastfair unarmed, unarmored, and silent? Ivanos: The first two, yes. The last I know is impossible, but believe me, it would be best to avoid attention. Also, buy clothing of local manufacture as soon as possible. It will provide an inexpensive "disguise" for the length of your stay in these lands. Autumn: (brightens) Now that part, I like. Ivanos: And finally, take care to not break any laws, even if it seems you won't be caught. The last thing you need is to leave Eastfair with only one hand, or without a tongue in your head. Ajax: Eww. Ivanos: Two places should you visit in the Granite City: one, the Whirling Dervish, and two, Gloria's. The former is owned by a man who purports to be Bakluni named Clinorus, although to the seasoned traveller he is quite plainly an Oeridian. Despite this ruse, though, he is a good man, and an excellent source of information within the city. He knows me well; tell him I sent you. Greythur: That we will. Ivanos: Gloria's might be a good place to find further information on travelling to the coast. It's full of mercenaries and sellswords, as well as many local dwur. (he smiles) Mostly, though, you should go there for the beer. Rimli: Och! It'll be th' first stop. Tasencia: Ivanos, our chance meeting with you is certainly ordained by the gods. We can't thank you enough for what you've told us. Ivanos: It is my pleasure, fair lady. Are there any other questions you may have?