11th Pfier (Thirkday), 452 E.R.
Town of Crall's Shoal, western Antaron

The summer sun was well on its way to the end of its daily journey by the time the first wooden buildings came into view. Four companions rode closely together on the hard-packed dirt trail that served as a road through the marshy countryside. The smell of seaspray helped to somewhat alleviate the less pleasant scents associated with the various pools of standing water that could regularly be found alongside the glorified "road".

Two sylvari rode at the front of the group. The first was a male, tall and powerfully built for his people, dressed in shining armor and wearing a scarlet cape across his shoulders. To his right sat a female syl, this one dressed in fine, intricately tooled leathers, along with a cloak of the finest spidersilk. At first glance, she was quite young, to say nothing of exceptionally beautiful, but something in her bearing caused even the most unobservant to realize that the sword at her side was not for show.

Following the two warriors was another who obviously bore sylvari blood, but careful observation revealed a heavier bone structure - the blood of humans also flowed through his veins. This one's clothing was far different - instead of finery, his garb was sturdy and functional leather armor, covered with a white robe trimmeed in blue. The thornless rose embroidered upon his chest marked him clearly as a servant of Lysora.

Last in line rode a diminutive sylvari woman in soft colors - mostly grey and muted purples. Her clothing was clearly fine, and the only obvious weapon she carried was the hilt of a dagger at her hip.

The journey had not been an easy one. The overland journey from Ertain was never an easy trip, but here at the southern end of the Taskarren Coast, the going had become particularly perilous. Twice the party had been froced to fight off attacks from bands of slaa'kar warriors; a rather unusual occurance, since the group had studiously avoided the Swamps of Kedesh themselves, where the most fierce tribes were known to live.

Still, they could not be swayed; En'Aranthea, a bladesinger of the sylvari court, had been tasked to meet an operative of her government in the otherwise unremarkable settlement of Crall's Shoal. Now that the wooden walls of the settlement had come into view, the companions looked forward to a night or two of much-deserved rest.

En’Aranthea’s seat upon her horse was relaxed and easy as she took her time to review the settlement before her. The wooden buildings were unprepossessing, humble even, crudely raised and already weathering badly from the damp of the swamp and the saltspray of the ocean. The bladesinger made note of any defensive structures the town may possess (request for more info from the DM) and suppressed a sigh.

Her shoulders slumped slightly before she caught herself and reclaimed her proud posture. Time would only increase her discipline, but the young maid couldn’t squelch the disappointment she felt. She’d been told that human settlements could never rival the beauty of Sylvari structures, but she’d hoped to find something to stir the heart and be worthy of reporting back to Megilindir Nost. Alas, this did not look promising.

She turned her head to look at Tal’Anor, his own gaze on the buildings ahead. She was grateful for a bit of home accompanying her on her time of Journey, even if she’d hardly seen her cousin in years; he fended off the homesickness she’d not expected to feel so keenly. She waited for him to feel her eyes upon them, and smiled briefly when he looked over to her, the question in his eyes.

“The road has had few crossroads before now for this to be anything but the town we seek,” she began, the Common sounding formal and stilted in the afternoon air. She looked back to include the companions behind her and raised her voice,” but I have few details beyond the description of the man we seek. Let us proceed into town and seek lodgings so that our horses may realize some rest after the long journey.”

She slowed Melyanna so that those behind could encircle her to offer any comments or advice. New to the lands outside of Sylvari, she was careful to listen to anyone who would know more about this area and its customs. Her young face was serious in the fading light, braids capturing the orange glow of the setting sun.

As Tal’Anor rode upon the back of his heavy warhorse he could not help but wonder at just how much En'Aranthea had changed from their childhood. Though she was a few years younger then him they both had connected as children and had been at one time very close.

Then had come the night he had found his true calling and his ascension into the order of The Goddess Oriana, she of Love, as a Paladin in her service. As he left to train En'Aranthea herself found her calling and left for Megilinder Nost or Bladesingers Keep.
Many years had passed before they had been reunited by sheer chance for this mission, but now riding to her left En’Aranthea’s seat upon her horse seemed to him to be relaxed and easy, but yet for the briefest moment her shoulders slumped slightly before she caught herself and reclaimed her proud posture.

With a look by her in his direction he gave her an honest smile proud of her leadership to this point. The group had been on the road for six weeks now and had encountered a few enemies handily dispatched. A quick look over his shoulder showed him the other three were still with them despite the pace that En'Aranthea had set from the beginning.

First behind them was another who obviously bore sylvari blood, but clear to all was that he also possessed the heavier bone structure of a human. Instead of finery of the Paladin and Bladesinger, his garb was simple and sturdy, as one would expect to see on a hunter or woodsman.

To the Half-Syl’s side rode a second man he clearly human with no trace of Syl upon him called by most a apanonar, the sylvari word for humans from across the sea, he bore no armor at all, instead wearing robes that covered most of his skin.

The last of the five was also of a duel nature but instead of being mingled with sylvari, it was clear from the snoutish nose on his face that his ancestry instead lie among one of the darker humanoid tribes that dotted the continent and made war against anyone unfortunate enough to be near them. Though most would look at him with distrust among the five of them he had proven his loyalty to the party and beware any who would call him meek or stupid he was far from that.

But finally after six weeks of hard traveling they were here, the town of Town of Crall's Shoal if correct this was where En'Aranthea was to meet her contact as told to her by others above the pay grade of both as humans often joked. For the moment as Tal gazed around the town as they entered, noting defenses and strategic outlay, this was all her show and trust her he did.

Looking for Dog, he called the huge War Dog back to the side of his horse seeing no need to scare the towns folk due to the animals size though Dog, large and well muscled that he was, at times was the gentlest creature among the party.

With everyone clearly tired and in need of food the party of five slowly rode into town.....

11th Pfier (Thirkday), 452 E.R.
Town of Crall's Shoal, western Antaron

The gate of the wooden palisade is manned by four guards who are fairly nonchalant in their greeting, though you do overhear one of them ovserving that there "isn't a single real human among the lot" of you. You are asked to pay a silver leven per individual as an entrance tax to the town. The guards do frown upon learning that none of you have any of the Pardinese currency, and stipulate that they will take your Corian brissans instead, but that you will have to pay an additional two brissans (as a party) to cover the currency exchange.

DM's note: assuming that no one makes an issue of it...
Once the fees are paid, the sergeant on duty allows you into town. "Make sure to keep your peace strings on at all times," he warns you. "Baring steel within the walls of Crall's Shoal carries a fine of twenty levens."

Suitably warned, you are allowed entrance to the town itself. After riding through the gate, you are treated to a bit of a surprise - unlike many coastal towns of this size, Crall's Shaol is rather clean and apparently organized. The streets follow roughly straight paths, and at least the ones that you can see are all cobbled (no mean task with so much swamp land nearby). The countour of the land nearby is flat, though you can see that everything gently slopes down to meet the sea itself.

The coastline of the town is dominated by a series of docks, which are currently surrounded by a variety of small craft. However, it does not appear that any actual ship is in port at this time.

The street you currently stand on is obviously a main thoroughfare - it leads directly down to the docks themselves. En'Aranthea's directions state that she is to meet her contact at the Salty Dog tavern, two blocks up from the docks.

Destination in Sight

Val stretched up in her saddle to try to see more of their destination. She was ready to arrive finally to their destination. Not that the long journey had not been interesting for all the new experiences but she was tired. She was not use to the long hours in the saddle and mile after mile of travel with not many breaks. Val had not complained at all but she had learned to dismount for a time each day and walk with her horse. This gave her Sylvari steed a break and her backside too. Val loved riding but mostly it had been short trips or pleasure rides in her home woods near the Mirily-Wen Duin about equal distance form Aratar Barad, Ela-Istel and Faerame. With her parents she had often gone to the Exhaolted Tower where the priceless treasures of the Sylvari are kept safe. While her parents visited there, usually to study obscure histories and scrolls she had had a rare chance to see the insides when she was younger. She loved riding early in the morning before her studies or in the evening and the sun disappeared behind the mountains and the sky turned all colors and then shaded to purple. Unfortunately her love of riding had not prepared her anatomy for the endless hours in a saddle. With most of them being Sylvari or part Sylvari they had started riding early in the day and often did not stop until the sun had long since set.

Val looks more like one of the Sylvari’s of the group’s younger siblings. If you looked closely and were attentive you could discern that she was female. With this group she had not bothered to disguise herself as a young male Sylvari.

With a bit of time she might be able to create some scrolls that would be very useful in the encounters they had had. Studying and practice magic was all well and good but using it in real life conditions and especially in battle was something else entirely different. She was learning a lot which was why she had jumped at the chance to go. This is what she had wanted to do for years. Book learning was good but practicing her skills in real life was better. Oh, she had so much more to learn though. Have her spells on scrolls was one of those things that she learned on this trip. At her current skill level she just didn’t have a lot and ran out quickly. At home, while studying, she never saw a good reason for all that scroll work. Now she knew just how important it was how important they were to have on hand ready to use. She was also going to have to learn more area of effect spells so she could target groups of opponent not just one or two at a time. Unlike fighter her weapons disappeared after use. Scrolls will help her make sure she didn’t run out of weapons before defeat the foe. Thanks the Gods for her companions’ skills and solid weapons. Those more than made up for her being depleted of useful spells and lack of any real weapon skills. She would get better she would study hard and learn more and be more useful in a fight.

Val sighed at the sight of the town. It was not much to look at but a bath, with warm water, a chair to sit on and a table to write on would be a well appreciated.

At the Gates

Val does not get involved in the money transactions exceot to pay her fair share. Inwardly she thinks that the triple fee they are charging in not a fair rate but it is not worth arguing about. There are more important matters at hand. Her quick ears do hear the Sergents comments but she ignores it. riding straight in her saddle and sparing the guards no attention. Poor guards to her way of thinking they should should not be making comments about their betters while on duty. As they rode on into the town whichc is the best she could describe it as. the smell of of the harbor grew worse. No the clean smell of the ocean but more that of old effluevioum of mixed salt water and the run off of human wastes mixed together it was nearly overpowering. THe very air smelled of it and it seemed to have saturated the ground and buildings as well. Val lifted a deicately emboidered and lavender scented handkerchief to her nose and moutn and ocovered them.

Varuna rode uncomfortably upon his simple riding horse for though he could ride decently he did not ride often and found it rough upon his posterior. After the six long weeks the backbone of this horse, purchased for a small fee in the first town on their journey, felt like a rusty jagged saw blade cutting him in two. Guiding the reins with his left hand he absently fondled a necklace that hung around his neck with his right hand; a golden thornless rose about three inches in length, the holy symbol of his order.

The decision to join this group had not come easily, he had heard them out and prayed upon the decision and during the night he had a vision, obviously from the Sacred Mother, that told him the journey was a just one and that his services to the group would be needed. But after six long arduous weeks upon the back of this steed from Hades, he wondered if he had done something to offend the Goddess and earned her punishment.

His was not to question her motives so here he was and he had indeed been needed as their journey had been ripe with peril at many turns. While his service to the Goddess did not allow him to use weapons that drew blood, he had shown that his ball mace was very effective at cracking the skull and bones of those Slaa’kar that attempted to waylay their group. Normally he would have prayed for their unfortunate souls, but he wasn’t sure the lizard people even had souls.

Varuna listened to the true Sylvari speak and he only nodded having nothing to add as his eyes studied the town just ahead. By now they would have learned that Varuna said little but when he said something he usually had something he considered worth saying. But he had no idea what the object of their journey might be and he didn’t much care except that his Goddess had desired his presence and therefore the cause was good.

During the journey he had learned to trust those around him. All of them showed their bravery and goodness time and again upon the road and he had come to accept that his Goddess’s decision had been correct, not that he ever doubted it for a moment.

At the Gate

Not having much money himself, giving most of it the needy people, Varuna thought the entry fee for the town exorbitant thus he had to protest a little to the Guard.

“My good Captain,” he would begin knowing he was talking to a Sergeant, “I am but a poor Priest of the Sacred Mother, Lysora.. Goddess of Healing and Provider for the needy and being such we are not allowed much in the way of wealth… Might I beseech upon the kindness of your heart to let me pass without paying said fee and I promise that in return I will pay back that entry fee in triplicate to those within your fair town.”

He spoke reverently and with all modesty and hoped the Sergeant of the Guard would let him pass, but if the man was adamant about him paying the fee, then Varuna would reach into his meager pouch of money and withdraw the required amount and pay without any further fuss.

Riding into the Town he was impressed with the level of cleanliness of the town and he guessed that perhaps the entry tax was being put to good use afterall. He guided his mount along after the others content in his role to follow those in charge of this mission, though he couldn’t wait to get off his torture rack some called a horse and rest hoping they wouldn’t turn right around and leave again right away.

At the Gate
Valendara sits quietly on her mount as the Priest of Lysora entreats the guards to let him pass without paying. Certainly it was a fair offer and she hoped for his sake they took it but if they didn't wshe will offer to pay the fees for him, though she waits for the guards reactions before making the offer.

Tal‘Anor rode quietly as the party of five reached the town’s main gates. As he awaited his cousin to speak he took in the scene before him. Manning the gate area were four human guards who seemed somewhat lazy in their greeting and guarding of the gate. As he watched one of them detached himself and started asking for some type of entrance fee, then of all things this ‘human’ dared to threaten them, did not this human know to whom he spoke.

"Make sure to keep your peace strings on at all times, Baring steel within the walls of Crall's Shoal carries a fine of twenty levens."

As the human finished speaking Tal was about to speak his disfavor at their treatment and as nobility of having to pay for entrance but a quick look from En’Aranthea stopped him from saying a word. Though it had been some time since she had used it, he still knew that look from his cousin and so said nothing.

Then they were past the gate and headed into the town proper as all followed, Tal quickly forgeting his displeasure turned to En’Aranthea as she only knew of the meeting place.

“So cousin what say you, where are we to meet this contact of yours”

As he awaited the Bladesinger’s answer his eyes yet scanned all around him, call him paranoid but this town seemed almost too clean for humans. For now his ‘peace string’ lightly tied he stayed on guard.

Before the good Priest dips into his purse. Val holds out her hand with three silver pieces. QUietly she says "here are the two extra pieces of silver for the group and one for t=the priest. ""I am sure your generosity for this good priest will be appropriately noted and rewards by his God."

There that might give them something to think about. and well they should. Pleased with her carefully chosen words, she smiles at them slightly--very slightly--and rides on with head held high. Not that it reach very high above her horse being quite the shortest one in the group.

Thousands of years of nobility flowed in Val's veins and she had learned social and court etiquette very well. Praise those who serve you well with a genuine smile and praise those who serve you less well only a little less well and a smile that conveys that you have found them wanting. She had remember her grandmother's teaching very well. The matriarch of theie House. She had been the one that truly brought up Val. Stories of Court and life she learn at her grandmother's knees, and by observation. With a look Grandmother could quell, praise, scold flatter, and convey many other messages.

Val was a quick witted child and learn quickly an as she grew older, she tried them all out. They did not work well on Grandmother though. Val laughed at a memory of one such episode when trying to wheedle Grandmother into letting her ride out with some older friends into the forest. She tried one of the looks and failed. Oh her grandmother thought she had done well but the answer was still no. SHe also clearly remembered her Gandmothers, look od disappointment when Val rode out any way and returned later. NOthing happen but the look she--well just say she never did that again.

Her laugh did bubble up and escape her lips as they rode on.

En’Aranthea had been warned that some of the younger races viewed Sylvari with dislike or even anomosity, so the muttered words of the one guard didn’t offend her. Indeed, they weren’t even offensive as they were accurate, she could hardly fault the man’s observation.

Not so Tal, whose very nature ran hotter than her own icy calm. He fairly bristled at the guards words, as well as the injunction to bind their weapons, but he glanced over to her before saying anything. Lowered eyelashes and a slight pursing of her lips were enough to stay his actions, and the bladesinger breathed a mental thanks to Kith Jora.

Varuna pleaded poverty, but the bladesinger was unsurprised when the guards were unswayed; he was traveling with prosperous looking companions after all. En”aranthea did allow herself an approving smile when Valandera proffered the coin without argument. Her words were gracious and bore the mark of a gentle upbringing, without being condescending of the commoner before her.

I may learn something of dealing with the others from her, En’Aranthea thought to herself, gazing at the older Sylvari maid She has the gift of speaking with them as easily as she does with Sylvari.
Tying her weapon with the bright red peace cord carried for such times, En’Aranthea addressed the guard captain carefully, if a touch coolly. “One hopes that one is still allowed personal defense, sir captain, but we bear no one in town any ill-intent. We will abide by the rule of the peace knot. Might one be directed to the, umm, the “Salted Dog”?”

(OOC: Will assume either rudeness or laughter over the misnamed tavern, but will not react to either negatively. If corrected, she will thank the guard politely for the correct name, and thank him as well for the directions.)

The bladesinger paid the captain her entrance fee and rode on without any further comment, the guard forgotten already in her study of the town. It’s clean lines pleased her somewhat, the care given to planning and organization making up for the initial impression outside the walls.

“So cousin what say you, where are we to meet this contact of yours” Tal’s words stirred from her study of the town, and she smiled briefly at him before turning to regard the others behind her.

“The one I seek may be found at the Salty Dog Tavern, so we head there. If decent lodgings, we should make plans to remain there tonight, giving us all a chance to rest, “ she answered lightly before giving Melyana a gentle nudge with her heels to set the mare in motion again.

“What an odd name, though, don’t you think? Why would one salt a dog? Humans don’t eat them, do they?” she wondered aloud, her heart racing beneath the brown leather armour. They’d reached their first destination: a meeting with her contact would yield the next step. Her Journey had truly begun, and Valandera’s light laugh nearly prompted one of her own.

Varuna noticed Tal’Anor’s glare at the guard and how a single look from En’Aranthea squelched any angry comment about the guard’s rudeness. He smiled slightly at the Sylvari’s confusion of human’s and their ways; if he hadn’t been raised by the human priest of his order he would probably have the same feelings towards them. He didn’t mistake their words and mutterings as a hatred or even dislike of humans, just their ways were strange; much like the Sylvari’s ways were to him. Afterall, being around humans most of his life hadn’t taught him much about the other half of his lineage.

He sighed when the guard refused to wave the fee for a humble priest, but when Valendara paid his fee he was stunned for a moment and said nothing. When they entered the town he spurred his horse to catch up to them and pulled up along side of Val and bowed his head, “Thank you for that.. I could have paid..,” he stumbled with his words, “I do have some coins.. But I wanted to save the few I have to give to the needy… a silver coin could feed a family for a week.”

He seemed embarrassed by his need to have someone pay for him, “The goddess smile upon you, Dear Lady.” He smiled at her and then looked around at the town as they rode through and marveled that it was much cleaner than others he had seen and thought that perhaps the entry fee was being put to good use.

He couldn’t help but overhear Tal’Anor and En’Aranthea’s conversation and when she asked if humans ate dogs he chuckled loudly, “Pardon Milady, but humans don’t eat dogs, well not the civilized ones anyway, I believe it is a Sailing term of whose origins I am regrettably unfamiliar.”

Although he had said that most humans didn’t eat dogs he could recall seeing poverty stricken people eating dogs, cats, any meat they could get their hands on all in the name of survival. The thought caused his stomach to turn, but he could imagine that almost anyone would partake of such a repast if times were desperate.

He had also overheard them speak of meeting their contacts at this Tavern, but really he didn’t care about that all he wanted was a nice bed for once. Just to get off of this horse for a day or so would greatly improve his morale as well as the condition of his back end.

"I understand Varuna. a good priest wishes to do well for those in need., I wanted you have you coins for the needy, for my part consider it a donation to your Goddess. May your work find favor in her eyes."

"The Salty Dog what and intersting name." Val continues her conversation with Varuna. "I would be interested the the etymology of those words. I find languages so interesting--not the words that directly translate but those who are peculiar to certain situations. I am sure Salty Dog is one of those. Perhaps one of the locals will know it meaning. I will ask when we arrive at that place."
I can record it meaning in my languages notebook."

On their trip Val had been a eager student of languages politely asking for an explaination of various words.--never interrupting the conversation at all just waiting until the speaker was finished. Varuna had seen her jooting down respionse frequently in her books when stey did stop and rest. A little stone with continue light placed close so she could write down any new words or phases she had learned. She also had another bood of her observations. With a careful calligraphy she wrote with the book on her kness balanced just so.

As they rode on through the tow her quick eyes, obserbved, noted and remembered. Years of studing magic and spells had developed her mental skills, and so it should. She did lower her hankerchief, because she did not want to seem impolite. Instead she used a discrete dab of herbal essence, which helped alot.

She passed the vial onto Varuna. "This has a nice fragrance, woodsy and herbal, it does seem to help conteract the briny smell a bit."

11th Pfier (Thirkday), 452 E.R.
Salty Dog Tavery, Crall's Shoal

It is not difficult to locate En'Arantheas's destination - the main cobbled street that leads to the docks takes the party directly past a weathered wooden building with a sign depicting a dog lying on its back, legs in the air. Beneath the picture are stenciled red Apanonese letters that read "SALTY DOG" - for those than can comprehend them.

The party takes advantage of the hitching posts outside fo the tavern, though they appear to be the only ones currently doing so. Opening the door reveals a fairly cozy wooden interior thick with the smell of various smokeweeds. A handful of people sit in various spots, while a lone female human acts as a waitress, and a burly man stands behind the bar.

With a manner that suggests a party of nonhumans might be far from the strangest thing he has ever seen, the barkeep greets you in a thick accent. "Welcome in, then, travelers... grab a table, an' Marjie'll be right wit' ya. Finest ale in Crall's Shoal, an' the mead's not half bad, neither. Still got some stew left from lunch, or if yer in the mood for somethin' from the sea, we got fresh dilap fillets... they been bitin' good lately."

Indeed, the attitude of the diners here suggests that the party is not considered overly out of place; of course, most of the patrons are dressed along the lines of sailors and such, so their experiences with other races might be broader than those of typical farming folk.

A quick inspection of the room does not, however, reveal any sign of Luinen Tatharon, or any other sylvari, for that matter.

The barkeep is true to his word - after only a few moments, the human woman, a blonde in her early thirties, perhaps, makes her way to the table. Her accent is very similar to that of the barkeep - thick, almost as if she seems to be chewing some of her words. "Right, then," she speaks by way of greeting. "You lot look too dusty to be from a ship, so ye must've ridden in through the swamps, then? Not that we mind business of any sort, but Cardista's tears, it's been too long since any ships have made port!" She sighs heavily. "Never mind, luvs. What can I get ya?"

“The Goddess finds favor with all those who do her work, as I am sure she will be with your graciousness.” Varuna replied to Valendara with a smile. He listened to her curiosity at the phrase ‘Salty Dog’ and chuckled, “I think you will find much of the human’s language to be .. unique and.. flavorful.”

He too found such words to be of interest be he didn’t write them down, having little in the way of writing implements, and frankly he didn’t find them as interesting as Valendara apparently found them.

Varuna took the proffered vial from Valendara and sniffed it, “It is a nice smell though a bit overpowering I think.”

“Actually I find the smell of the sea quite refreshing”, he said as he handed the vial back to her and taking a deep breath of air. He wrinkled his nose at the pungent aroma’s of the town, sea air mixed with human waste and garbage, then said with a smirk, “Though at the moment, it leaves a lot to be desired.”

Reaching the Tavern he smiles at the sign as he slips from his saddle with a groan and feels no lack of pride in rubbing his posterior with both hands briskly, “I think I am going to be numb for the rest of my life.” and ties his reins to the supplied hitching post and staggers inside.

Stepping into the Tavern he smiles at the smell of food and drink, he greets the barkeep in return and points out a table big enough for the group and heads over and sits down with another groan; at least this seat isn’t moving.

Varuna greets the waitress with a smile when she arrives, “A good day to you too Lass, how about a bowl of stew and some bread and ..” digging into his pouch to count his coins, “ a mead as well.”

En’Aranthea disliked how slow she was to comprehend Common; she had thought she was improving after asking all her fellow Sylvari to speak only Common so she could practice, but the “mouth full of acorns” way the locals had of speaking was trying her skills to the limit.

She was pretty certain she’d puzzled out the words of the barman and his lady and was framing a response when Varuna both spoke and acted for the group. He moved to a table and ordered a meal of the barmaid as easily as if they were old acquaintances. The bladesinger threw the others a bemused look before gliding after the cleric, the long hours astride her horse not apparent in her straight spine and surefooted tread.

“The ‘dilap” is a type of local fish?” she asked the barmaid politely, tilting her head and smiling at her own ignorance.” I’ll have that, as well as whatever fresh vegetables you may have available. And, umm, some mead, too, please,” she finished, glancing over at Varuna uncertainly. When he caught her eye she mouthed a quick “thank you”, colouring at the amusement in his eyes. She knew she was still a child by Sylvari standards; did even the outsider (which was the most polite term for the half blood En’Aranthea could think of) recognize this?

She set her pack down and undid the cord holding her cloak around her shoulders, the heat of the room was more than she was used to in the cool depths of the forest. Setting her cloak neatly on her chosen chair, she moved to the bar and waited for a moment of the barkeep’s time. “Tell me, good sir, has another of our kind been here recently? I seek a fellow Sylvari, a traveler by the name of Luinen Tatharon.”