The Meeting in the Inn (Agamemnon)

'Sailing' might be too grand a word to describe my arrival today, just as 'town' is somewhat overstating what Zelkor's Ferry is.  The Lucky Oak was neither: a decrepit river runner whose advantage over simply walking here wasn't its speed but the opportunity it afforded to examine the other adventurers making their way to this dismal outpost.  Although the atmosphere was so devoid of energy that we spoke barely a word to each other the whole trip down this pathetic waterway (except the rogue who did talk but said very little of consequence and got nary a response from anyone else on what I'll laughingly refer to as the 'deck'), I was right to assume that any competent traveller heading in this direction this day would not be doing so purely by chance.  We were all here to see Shades.

Disembarking at Zelkor's Ferry in the late afternoon I had intended to complete a circuit of the town to see what gossip was to be had about our soon-to-be employer and this area in general, but upon seeing the place I decided not to bother: not more than five buildings, three of which were commercial, this was less a town and more a struggling trading post.  The presence of a necromancer's was telling: Zelkor's Ferry did not even have the gravity to attract a lowly herbalist, let alone a chirurgeon or apothecary.  I made a mental note not to die out here, just in case.  One of my future compatriots - I don't remember who, but probably the rogue since he was the only one thus far inclined towards speech beyond necessary communication and dour observations - perked up at the sight of a dwarven gem cutter, seeing it as a sign of an active nearby mining interest and some sort of trade.  He may be right, but I am not so sure; it is not unknown for members of the stout folk to actively seek subsistence living as far from social engagement as possible, and Zelkor's Ferry certainly qualifies in both those respects.

The Bristleback Inn, wherein we were to find our contact, served no pork whatsoever.  I would put this down to the wit of the landlord if I thought he had any.  The man was implacable.  I would think him a golem except that noone with the fleshcrafting skills to make such a passable model would be bothered to shit on Zelkor's Ferry, let alone invest their creation here.  I do not flatter myself when I say that my presence, when directed at lesser men, causes them to quail in fear; even when called on his extortionate rates he did not so much as blink at the considerable pressure under which I put him.  If I am forced to remain here for any duration I might investigate this man, but I'll do so without spending the night - even if I had five gold pieces per person per night I can think of better things to do than handing them over to an inn in the middle of fucking nowhere.  I have to wonder how much custom this place receives.  Are there so many adventurers, and they so desperate for a roof over their heads that this pricing is effective?  Or is there so little traffic that he simply does not need the money?

Irrespective we all of us met with Shades, who had rather optimistically but, it turns out, accurately predicted a large number of respondants to her call out for muscle and had ensconced herself at a pulled-together collection of tables with enough seating for all seven of us.  Shades is a tengu, a disreputable race of prideful thieves I have encountered but a few times before and never in circumstances that called into question the generally accepted concerns about their presence in a city, but if anyone is positioned to not judge a person by their heritage it is I.  So far she has seemed more interested in contracts and regulations than petty theft, so I will hope for the best.

Her proposition was simple: she had inherited the deeds to a nearby castle, which had apparently been overrun by kobolds and gnolls.  She needed assistance in clearing them out so that she could take possession of the land.  Why she would want a run-down castle out here - or why anyone could be bothered building such an edifice out here in the first place - I neither know nor care; her claim seems legitimate, as kobolds are not known for their propensity to legally purchase investment properties in remote little inglenooks such as this quaint shithole.

We leave early tomorrow, a sizable party with all six of my fellow evictors having signed on.  There was talk of shares, which I'll need initially if I am to properly equip myself, but that's not why I'm here.  The Great Downward Engineering Company, which the tengu either operates or represents, intends to begin expeditions into Rappan Athuk.  I consider this quick jaunt to be a job interview for that more serious undertaking.  I must get to Rappan Athuk.