MARCH 28 998 PY
CRAGSTONE
MORNING
Bob the Recker, 1st level fighting-man, stood before a peddler. A dwarf, a guildie, member of the Sea Clans. The dwarf had a white beard. He was grooming a tame brown bear.
"Veteran?"
"Yes."
"Of the War?"
"Yes."
"Headin' to Otter?"
"That's right. The Ord of Otter. Next barony to the southeast."
The dwarf thinks a minute and pulls on his pipe. "Two gold coin a day and rations. Bring a sword, and a horse if you got one. We're leaving at dawn. Two days in Glenden Wood, two days through the villages. Rest Sundays. Then we get there and you're on your own again."
They shook hands and Bob prepared his meager things for the journey. Perhaps he could catch up to the traveling ascetic Honosius and talk about the expedition to the Sea of Calm. His hand smelled like bear sweat.
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