Headmaster's journey

Crypto had originally planned to head to neighboring Voonlar to scout out the political scene, hunt new business prospects, but mostly just 'get away' for a while. He came across some scetchy looking sorts on route who originally tried to rob him, but he used his confident silver tongue to talk them down. By all accounts it wouldn't have ended good for these vagrants had it went the other way.

He hitched a ride on the back of their front woman's horse and headed to Scardale, where they were going. On the way they trade stories, occupational run ins, folk lore and song. Upon hearing about what Scardale was really like, he asked if there was a less merciless coast town where he could lay low a while.

'Yhuann grampa' one of them said with a snicker. 'seek the high hallowed fest hall there... Sounds right up your canal, mate'

....and so he did

Crypto takes the south fork to Yhaunn and wanders the path for two days before coming to the Sembian and Shadovar outposts and buildings of the city.  He shows his diplomatic papers and letters of affiliation from Hlondeth, Ormath, Misty Falls, and Freehaven to any that inquire of his identity.

He makes his way towards the High Hallowed Fest Hall, as per directions he got from a local.  As he approaches just as darkness falls, he hears the clamor of drinking and flirting festivities, singing and hollering, a drunken sailor with a girl on each arm stumbles into the place before him laughing uncontrollably.  Something in him cringes... "this is exactly like home" he thought.

He cut path from the main thoroughfair and headed towards the smell of sea breeze.  Something that reminded him of home and years long past.  He walked out onto a shoreline bluff and overlooked a full moon rising over the gently rolling water.



He smiled contented and traversed the bluff to the rocks and sand below.  He sat down in the dark, opened his pack drawing his brandy bottle and some ginger biscuits, enjoyed the view, and later made camp on that very spot.

The next day, he awoke to a warm breeze out of the South East over the Sea.  The way the swirling Sea of Fallen Stars currents, crashed into the outflow of the Dragon Reach reminded him much of home where the Vilhon Reach waters did the same in the south.



He opened a finely carved box gifted to him by the House's high druidess and pulled out a well rolled cigarello of some finely grown herb.  He lit it up and smoked the whole thing, eyes like the morning's pink sunrise... he went beach combing like he used to when he was a young land in Hlondeth.

Strewn about the beach were some wooden planks, rusty sail riggings, "HELLO!"... a crate still mostly intact.  By the looks of it, this shipwreck was recent.  We walked around the tangle of ropes, riggings, and planks to get a clear path to the crate, when he notices some sort of hound... longingly looking out to sea... as if waiting for her master... or perhaps her doggie lover.



It was about the size of a cat... a strange pygmy mastiff, or perhaps miniature hellhound.  Crypto wasn't taking any chances.  He tossed the critter a slab of dried venison from his pocket to appease the beast while he cracked open the sea crate.

"Well I'll be a harlot's garter!  RUM!!!"

All ready quite 'happy' from the druid smoke, he grabbed some of the liquid booty from the crate and danced about the sand cheering and hollering.  The pygmy mastiff got excited and jumped and barked in tandem.  Crypto made a nice nest of ferns and fronds along the beach under a shady palm, cracked open the rum and the hound followed.

It was a good day, and he made a new friend, found pirate treasure... in liqour form.  He named the canine, 'Garmi'.  They shared hard cheese and bread, wine and rum, venison and Crypto caught a yellow tailed reef fish that he roast over an open fire later in the afternoon.  Crypto would sing sea folk songs of the South, and Garmi would howl along.

Not another soul wandered that stretch of beach for two more days.  Crypto wondered how long it might take to sail to Vilhon Reach... "the House couldn't miss me THAT bad, right?" he thought.  "This is the bloody life."

He looked at his surroundings and fantasized about living on this very stretch of beach... away from all the hustle and bustle of Headmaster life.... away from the wars, and folks to judge him... "I could wear a loin cloth every day!!!" ... he though fondly.  "My wife really needs to see this place."



He spent the rest of that day getting clams and lobster from the waters to boil up for a sunset feast for himself and four legged friend, Garmi.

////FYI, yes, this is where I was for all of last week. Now you know why you hardly saw me online.   

//// Nice! Hope you had a lot of fun and a good rest!

///I feel like a new person actually   

He slept soundly that third night on the coast... the crashing waves... a miniature hellhound underneath his chin, tucked in and keeping warm.  His dreams were of open plains, flying above them... rolling hills... pristine mountains under his wake... a woman from his past, a woman from his 'now'... flapping... flapping... wtf is flapping he thought... he looked around at the world 100 leagues under him... no sign of the flapping source... flapping... flapping closer... heavy breathing.

Maybe he shouldn't have smoked that second cigarillo...



He was awakened by the high tide and wind coming in right behind the waves... crashing... tempting... warning... he stirred and the mini beast under his neck couldn't be more contented.  He looked up at the sun, an hour before or after noon.  Tries to get his bearings and looks around.  There are sea turtle prints from the shore and back.  The moon must have brought her in.  He spits sand out from his lips.

"Good crikes!"

She laid eggs not 3 feet from his head... "Some flerking watchdog..." he thinks.

"Get up Garmi!... we need to scour us some breakfast"

The sea was angry that day...

After being awoken and talk of food on the wind, Garmi headed straight into the waters... hunting pint sized prey... a fierce beast... she caught a shrimp.  



Crypto was encouraging her to delve the warm waters and almost didn't notice... a ship moored 500 yards out.  A merchant ship... these were his sort of people.  Perhaps fate spins a web for him... perhaps a ticket to freedom... the wind changes...