LoreSpinner's page

The tense air within the ferry slackens a bit, as does the guard's expression. Broken only by the dog shifting back and forth. Uncomfortable and warily watching its master. Seemingly beckoned in the silence, the fluid sounds of something large moving briskly through the dark waters of the harbor come from just out of sight.

The increase in the rowing speed surely closed the distance, as the small ferry dock comes into view through the mists. It is a dilapidated construction, an eyesore among the longer and more skillfully made piers, now fallen into disuse.
Briefly colliding with a support strut, the ferry comes to a stop, sending a jolt through the breeding conflict aboard. The whitewashed walls of Kothas rise ever upward from your position at their base, eerily lit by an orange glow flowing from the braziers decorating them near a great gateway.

A more official looking soldier nears the dock wearing half plate armor in typical Kothas green and gold, three of his fellow gate post officers standing unmoving a few paces behind.

"Welcome to Kothas. You've got Garret with you huh? I assume you won't be any trouble."

Something about his statement, along with the narrow eyed glance he shot the guard aboard the ferry, would give any man an odd knowing feeling. Garret, as you now know him, sneers a bit and looks away, ignoring the address as the other soldier continues to speak.

"Quickly now, we would prefer the gate be closed soon. There is a tavern just inside, Three Stones Lodge. They always make special arrangements for shuttle nights."

The soldier, after his half greeting, returns to post as the old ferryman ushers you out of the vessel, gesturing toward a run down wooden ladder leading to the shore. The gate of Kothas waits, open but not so inviting somehow, revealing the well lit main street, winding past simple shops, temples and beyond an expanse of rundown housing areas.

Welcome indeed.

In the misty air, the Sharp call of the guard rings out.

"Sit, you fools! If I'm made to get up you will pay dearly. Take your seats and save it for the duelling grounds like everyone else!"

He leans forward, prepared to stand and intervene if need be. Coal black eyes glaring across the way. The ferryman in all this, oddly enough, rows with a newfound stamina. His hushed whimpering is enough to give away the terror gripping him.

you're on your honor for spot checks, theyre separate checks...

Roll for initiative if you plan on combat, post it here. bit before each action I require a DC 15 balance check or fall prone. Also, as I have not been clear, this is essentially a large rowboat. if all of you were to stand you would need to file to get onto the dock. movement will be difficult as its about fifteen feet long. I treat it as difficult terrain. Combat may also url the other players who will be rocked violently in their seats. sorry for the delay. ill be back again tonight to keep things moving.

The greasy ferryman, having focused soley upon his rowing for the last fifteen minutes, brings the ferry quickly to the center of the harbor. He has the air of a seasoned man, long since grown weary of his profession. Kothas looms closer, through the thick mists appearing as a long extinguished beacon of light in the madness that has enveloped the provinces. Toward mirrored eyes he growls,
"If you'd rather swim, be my guest. Just a ways yet."

The rowing slows, the lurching more pronounced, and above the banter aboard the vessel, comes a liquor cured voice once more.

"Keep still!" The ferryman sounds in poorly restrained anger.
"If we head overboard you won't live to see what's coming to make a meal of you!"

His remark is made quite pointedly toward the men adjusting and readying their weapons.

The soldier seated beside the rower doesnt move much...but his hands ball into fists at his sides. He does not seem too keen on the idea of being dumped into the water.
"Passengers will sheathe their weapons aboard the transport." He says, in a slightly irritated monotone.

The mists become thicker, threatening to blot the walls and towers of Kothas from view, even at your current distance, roughly a hundred yards from shore.

From beneath the ferry comes a series of nudges, gently rocking it's form in the dark water.

"Well at least the fish are prosperous..." Grumbles the ferryman before returning to his duties.

Opening headcount in the form of self description? I think so.

HERE we begin our journey..

It is an age of darkness.

War, famine, suspicion, corruption and mourning plague the land and her inhabitants. The mists fail to obscure from our eyes the great city of Kothas ahead, its stone walls rising high above the dense forests surrounding them, the bright stone only vaguely reflected in the murky bay it borders. The nearby cliffs drop down sharply onto a rocky coastline as the sea makes it way hastily toward the capitol itself.
Kothas was once a busy port city, managing trade between provinces...but, since the bloodshed began, the harbor has been all but abandoned. Ghostly fragments of cargo still haunt the dark, churning waters here. Debris litters the edges of the water, catching on the sharp crags of rock jutting out from the coast.

"Keep still now!" Grumbles the gaunt man rowing the small weathered vessel you find yourselves sitting in. The boat is filled with a handful of strangers, a rather diverse group, and the man's seafrayed whiskers do nothing to hide the smirk upon his lips as he lays eyes on you, each in turn lingering disdainfully on the more exotic beings present.

The ferryman continues with a hacking cough, "If we head overboard you won't ever see what's makin' a meal of you."

The ferry lurches from side to side on your way toward Kothas, the air is chill and moist as the mists threaten to close in around you,

You are the only passengers aboard the vessel, save for the ferryman himself and an armed escort.

(I think some initial descriptions are called for. This shuttling may take a little while.)