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(Head to the beech to check it out)
As you ride across the firm sandy beach towards the excited crowd you see that they are gathered around the carcass of a whale. These poor villagers are celebrating their unexpected good fortune for this whale will provide them with food for a month, and enough oil to fuel their lamps until winter. A cheerful-looking old man hails you with his walking stick and you slow your horse to a halt.
‘You be bound for Bir Rabalou, good sirs?’ he asks. ‘ ’Cause if you is, then you’d do well to heed my advice.’
‘And what advice would that be?’ replies Ernan. The old man gives him a thin smile and then hobbles nearer to your horse. He does not say anything; he simply holds out his hand in the hope that you will pay him something for his advice.
(I give him a crown)
You take a single Gold Crown from your money pouch and toss it to the old man who catches it with surprising dexterity (erase 1 Gold Crown from your Action Chart). He tests its worth by biting down on its edge with his blackened teeth before tucking it safely away in the folds of his tattered mhaktis.
‘There’s a mutiny taking place in the city of Bir Rabalou,’ he says, his creaky old voice barely audible above the crash of the surf. ‘The Funtal of the city has imposed heavy taxes on the city’s merchants, and we’ve heard from travellers that the Trader’s Guild have paid foreign assassins to come and do away with ’im.’ Suddenly the old man’s face drops and his myopic eyes narrow with suspicion when he notices that you and your companions are not natives of this land.
‘Don’t be alarmed,’ says Oswin, ‘we’re not assassins. We’re … traders.’
He smiles uneasily. Clearly he is not convinced and, without saying another word, he turns around and hobbles away across the beach.
‘Silly old fool!’ says Sligh. ‘We’re wastin’ our time ’ere, Grand Master. Let’s be getting on.’
You nod in agreement and signal to the others to follow as you turn your horse back towards the coast road. It is a clear night and the brilliant moon is nearly full. With luck you could be in Bir Rabalou well before midnight.
You ride the moonlit coast road, covering the remaining 25 miles to Bir Rabalou in little more than three hours. Your first glimpse of the great trading port comes when the road crests a ridge of hills within a mile of its perimeter wall. From here you can see that the city is built in a semicircle between two great jutting spurs of land which protrude into the ocean like the horns of a huge bull. Within the city wall are hundreds of lavish buildings, yet the grandest of all is a castle which stands upon a steep hill at its centre. This one towering stronghold dominates all the other splendid structures of this rich metropolis.
Your arrival at the north gate at such a late hour is greeted with suspicion from a pair of surly guards. Eventually you are allowed to enter, but only after Oswin bribes them with the horse that Oriah once rode. Beyond the gate you ride along a torchlit avenue which leads down to the harbour; this is filled with trading ships of all nationalities. The quayside and its taverns are alive with activity as the captains and crews of these vessels drink themselves senseless with the money their cargoes have earned.
You select one of the quieter taverns and stable your horses at the rear before making your entrance. The tavern’s taproom is crowded with sailors and traders, most of whom are listening to an uncommonly fine musical performance being given by three Cloeasian minstrels. Your companions are hungry and tired and so you make your way to the counter and ask the tavern-keeper his price for food and a night’s lodging. He tells you that 10 Gold Crowns will fill all your bellies and buy you each the use of a comfortable room. You agree to his price (deduct 10 Gold Crowns from your Action Chart) and he hands each of you a numbered key. The marines are not impressed with the minstrels’ classical recital and they decide to eat their meals in their rooms. Before they retire for the night you arrange to meet with them here in the taproom, first thing in the morning.
You seat yourself at the counter and listen to the recital as you enjoy a meal of grilled meat and sugared desert fruits. As you wipe your mouth and push away your empty plate, your eye is caught by a rotund little man who is seated alone in an alcove. ‘Ho, journeyman!’ he calls, beckoning you with a plump hand that is laden with gold and ruby rings. ‘Please, will you join me at my table?’
(I do not have Telegnosis)
By using your basic Kai skills you are able to determine that this man is a rich trader from Casiorn—the city of merchants. He seems harmless enough, his only fault perhaps is that he has consumed too much ale. Yet you are suspicious of the fact that he has identified you as a journeyman, which leads you to suspect that perhaps he has met other Kai in the past. You are about to ignore him and retire to your room when he repeats his request that you join him at his table. Out of curiosity you decide to find out what he wants.
‘Welcome, Master Journeyman,’ says the smiling trader, ‘I’m most pleased to make your acquaintance. My name is Kolastemi Ayusidihara but people know me better as Kol. I see by the cloak clasp you are wearing that you are a Kai journeyman of Sommerlund, yes?’
You nod to affirm this and the excited little man proceeds to tell you about himself and his business. You hear that he is a merchant who was born in Casiorn but who now lives in the city of Kuchek. When he was a young man he traded silk for wheat in Holmgard where he first encountered the Kai. Once, when his caravan was attacked by a Giak war party on the Ruanon Pike, it was the timely intervention of a Kai journeyman that saved his life and his cargo. Since that day he has revered your warrior order. Barely pausing for breath, he tells you proudly that he has a ship moored in the harbour which is filled with timber that he intends to trade for spices in Bisutan. He plans to set sail tomorrow at noon. When at last he pauses to take a sip of ale from his tankard, you inform him that you and your three companions are travelling overland to Elzian.
‘By horse? Such a tiring way to travel and such a difficult road too,’ he says. ‘I would gladly offer you passage aboard my ship but, alas, I carry such a heavy cargo that I could only accommodate one extra passenger. You would be most welcome to sail with me to Bisutan, but sadly I am unable to offer such a favour to your friends.’
You thank Kol for his offer but decline it, preferring to stay with the marines. You are tired now, and so you rise from your seat and bid the friendly trader goodnight and a safe voyage. As you turn to go to your room he calls out: ‘If you should change your mind, remember I sail at noon. My ship is moored at the end of the east quay. She’s called Desert Jewel.’
(My guess is that something will happen now and I'll be on the Desert Jewel tomorrow)
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