The Princess of Sands slowly pulled into the Kurshin Bay as the oarsmen strained at their stations. They lifted the oars and retracted them inside the ship as the first matem who stood on the deck, bellowed out the orders to lay anchor. He looked at Yahim and pointed to the aft longboat. Yahim looked and saw his carry-on gear staged on the deck by the opening in the rails that led into the boat that was being prepared. Nodding once to the mate, Yahim walked across and picked up the belongings. A deck-hand approached and stepped into the boat. He extended one arm to Yahim.

“Gear first,” he said to Yahim, “then you.”

Yahim began to hand over his pack to the young man. He had picked up some of the names during his journey from Char to Portsdale.

“Thank you, Kassim” he told the young man. “Where will I retrieve the rest of my belongings?”

“Your stallion will be brought from his hold and ferried across on a barge. It will take us about an hour to get the barge, clear our manifest with the harbor master, and bring him to the harbor master’s warehouse. You will pick him up there.”

Yahim knew that would give him a little time to find a place to stay and learn some of this new city. He knew he had everything he needed for now, so he stepped into the boat. Two other of the ships crew stepped into the longboat after him, and the boat was lowered into the waters of the bay. Yahim settled in as the small crew pushed off and began the short journey to the docks of Portsdale. He looked ahead to catch his first glimpse of the largest city on the island of Derugar.

It was a few hours before sunset, and he watched the bustling traffic on the dock area. It was no Char. He looked at the buildings and noted the differences in construction materials. He glanced over to the two ballistae towers that jutted up from the bay with ramparts that led back to very defensible forts at the edge of the harbor. Yahim could see wary soldiers manned each tower. The longboat continued through the bay and into the harbor until the steersman adjusted the tiller to take them alongside one of the lowdocks.

There were other ships docked at various points, but The Princess of Sands, like a few other ships, was too large to dock directly. Yahim saw ships called Anglor’s Pride, The Galerider, and The Sea Stag berthed at the docks with crew running cargo down the gangplanks. The longboat came to a stop and was tied up so that Yahim could get off.

The Sundaryan climbed out and took the gear that Kassim handed him. “Harbor Master is there,” he pointed to a building in the middle of the dock-run but still bayside. “May the sun never sink before your tent is set, Master Yahim.”

"And may the Luckbringer continue to fill your sails with wind and your pockets with gold," Yahim replied, an easy grin on his dark face. "Thanks for all your help. Next time we're in Portsdale together -- or Char -- we'll lift a glass, eh?"

"I'd be honored, Master Yahim," Kassim grinned.

With that, Yahim turned toward the harbor master's office, intent on making acquaintance with Rensch Langley, the man Kassim had said was a very helpful, congenial sort of person for anyone who had goods which needed to enter the city without bothering the local, overworked tax assessors. From Langley he got a recommendation for and directions to The Shepherd's Crook, a mid-way decent inn near the center of town and set off to rent a room. The silver with which he'd greased the palms of Master Langley insured his horse Murrad with bridle and tack would be intact and waiting for him when he returned. It also, he hoped, left Master Langley with a favorable impression of the young Sundaryan -- he'd likely need Langley's assistance before his time in Portsdale was behind him.

All these buildings made of wood, Yahim noted as he walked. I wonder how often the city has to burn down before someone figures out that stone is better for building? But, as he moved into the less seedy sections of Portsdale, he noted that stone buildings became more and more common and breathed a sigh of relief to see that The Shepherd's Crook featured quite a bit of good, solid stone in its construction. The price was reasonable, the lock on his door something less than a joke, and the innkeeper had stabling available for Murrad and mentioned that if Yahim was of a mind to make a bit of money on the beast, there was racing on a makeshift track the southern end of the city. If Murrad proved the strength of his bloodlines, there also might be offers of stud fees for the continuance of it.

Yahim had felt himself flush at that, but the innkeeper had turned away and thankfully did not notice. It was something to consider, he supposed -- his funds were not inexhaustible and unless he wanted to run afoul of any one of the four guilds here in Portsdale he needed to keep any of his extralegal activities to a bare minimum.

It's best though to find out where I need to go from here and get on with it, he mused as he ruffled through the belongings in his pack for a fresh pouch of aromatic tobacco. But for that, I need more information.

An hour later Yahim was seated in the common room near the fire, and Murrad safely in the stables. The young Sundaryan was smoking and ostensibly staring at the flames while his ears were spread as wide as possible, listening for news from the highlands, Caer Derugar, and about oak groves or druids or any other tidbits that might prove useful.

The common room of the The Shepherd's Crook was a large room with a hearth set on the north wall. Dark, brick walls rose to meet the exposed beams of the ceiling, and lanterns hung the other walls. Shadows danced and played on the tables and the corners. The room was half-full with patrons who had gathered in the late afternoon to enjoy an ale or some other potable. The room hummed with with various conversations from the small groups and couples that were dispersed evenly about the room.

"Things have quieted down in the last month..."

"Have you heard any news from the hinterlands?"

"I wonder how harsh this winter is going to be?"

Yahim heard every word without appearing to pay attention to any one group in particular. He casually blew smoke into the air, adding his own the trails and clouds that already filled the room with their own various odors. He knew he was conspicuous enough to start with, and all eyes eventually did look at him, if even for only a moment.

"Ha there, stranger," a lilting female voice called out from over his shoulder. "Wha brung d'yoo t'the Crook, hansome?" A full-breasted young woman in her late teens stood at his table with a tray in her hand. She wore a linen top that exposed enough to show her ample cleavage yet it was kept together modeslty by an embroidered corset.

"The recommendation of a friend," he replied in a voice just loud enough to carry, "who assured me the rooms are clean, the linens fresh, and the scenery," he added, glance flickering over her bosom, "most pleasant indeed." Yahim smiled, then drew on his pipe. "May I know your name, young mistress?"

"Kailee," the young woman replied with a smile. "I hope dey are ta your likin' sir? The rooms, I mean." She smiled again as she realized what it had sounded like.

"They... exceed my expectations," he told her with all apparent seriousness.

"Wha' do ya be wantin' ta drink, and can I be gettin' ye anyting ta eat?"

"A short glass of that good brown ale your innkeep serves, a bowl of stew and a piece or two of good bread, Kailee." Yahim smiled again and placed his pipe on the table with care. "Bring it with another of those smiles and I shall consider myself better served than any king, this night."

"Be right back", Kailee said and shot Yahim a wink, before she turned and went to the kitchen. She returned with the ale and placed it on the table before moving to another table to grab some empties. She disappeared again into the kitchen before bringing the meal Yahim had ordered to his table. The stew looked hearty enough. The gravy was thick and had a good portion of meat mixed in with the potatoes and carrots. She also placed a plate of bread baked fresh this morning in front of the Yahim.

"Tchree silver's hansome," Kailee told him as she broke into a smile. "Now who be's recommendin' me Uncle's place ta Sundars? We han't seen t'many o' you folks aboot Ta Crook in quite some time. Most o' ta mates stay closer to ta docks."

"So your uncle is the keeper of this fine establishment?" Yahim asked it, sniffing the stew ostentatiously. In truth Sundars didn't often eat red meat (too expensive -- where does one raise cows in a desert, after all?) but the dish was making his mouth water. "Have you worked for him long, Kailee?"

"Aye, dat he is. Uncle Doughan took me an my brother in after our mah and dah were kilt in a raid on our farm. Dat has been aboot nine years now."

Yahim sipped his ale and eyed the lovely young woman thoughtfully. "I am sorry to hear about your parents. You were fortunate to have survived, fair mistress. But let me ask you something if you would -- I am passing through Portsdale on business and when my older sister heard I was heading this way she tasked me with an errand." He rolled his eyes as if to suggest this was a rather regular occurrence. "She wants a basket of acorns from that holy grove, someplace west of here I believe. Which baron's land will I be crossing, and are the roads safe?"

Kailee blinked a couple times as she cocked her head to the side. "I donna know why ye'd be even tinkin' aboot headin into da highlands, but it is to da norwest o' here, across da mountains. Ya could head nort into Broadmoor, den west into Cordova, and sout to da Grove. Closer ye get to da mountains, sir, da more danger ye'll face. An' no tellin' aboot da roads outside da protected lands."

The young Sundar chuckled knowingly. "Well Kailee, I love my sister but I'm not sure her acorns are worth my hide -- though she may have a different opinion in the matter. If you hear of any fresh news. or of anyone passing that way however, will you let me know? It may be that traveling in company would be safer than traveling alone, times being what they are."

"I will, sweetie" she replied an turned to head back to work. She stopped, turned around again, and continued. "Sometimes, however, he an his pupil would pop in. It wasn't verra often, nor fer a long time. Janus, dat's his name. Cutie too," she finished with a twinkle in her eye.

Uncle Doughan had better get that girl safely married soon or she's going to get a big belly first, Yahim chuckled to himself as he dug into the stew. It was the first good, hot meal he'd had since he'd left Char -- and he had a lot to think over while he ate it.