Society Call of Action!

A call was put out, a little rise of the nose (but not snobbishly so), a nod of the head, a small smile and a wink. Harumph! Quite right.

And only one real requirement. Strict dresscode! Pants, jacket, white shirt, top hat, and oxfords; or ball gown with flats and appropriate necklace; they're a must. And if you don't show with them? Then you get the pants, jacket, shirt, hat and oxfords - changing rooms provided but it's a requirement before getting to private dock in Alexandria.

And at that private dock you might ask?

Nothing.

Just the fellow adventurers. Well, them and a halfling with her cogi named Westley.

"Westley really is the best of dogs." She nods her head, the corgi looks up at her, blinking. He has a rather dashing blue long-jacket on him, she's in a ball gown herself.

Charlotte is there, and she's in pants, a jacket, shirt, but no hat, nor oxfords. Mostly because it's a preference to her. She dispises ball gowns unless it's a must, and she actually fights in what she wears to formal events. "She's a beautiful Corgi, there's no doubt about that." She says with a grin. Of course...part of her outfit is the rapier at her side. Seems she knows a little bit about high class society.

Mel does not own these things. He changes as required, his protests that he's just here to cater dismissed. Clearly he's an adventurer, not a caterer. Anyhow, the stuff he caters would never get served here. On the other hand, a mithril shirt -is- somewhat fancy, and unobtrusive as a waistcoat. "Uhhhh," he says, unsure of what exactly is going on.

The lucht looks up at Charlotte. Blinks, "/He/. But he is very handsome - the handsomest." She says, a nod of her head.

Even the corgi seems to sniff and turn its head up and to the side.

She turns to look up at Mel next, a cant of her head to the side and she looks behind herself, "I KNOW, right?! But I mean, they always make an entrance so they're probably just a little late." She looks back toward Mel again with a smile.

Luckily for Silmeria, her everyday wear is close enough to the dress code that changing to match isn't too terribly onerous; the Vardaman shows up at the private dock in a black velvet overgown and false sleeves, with sand-colored petticoats and lace ruffles, with sensible black flats on her feet. Even her gunbelt is changed to match, with her pistol very securely tied down and her ammunition kept in a black clutch purse. Mori may be her plus-one, but that doesn't mean he has to be overtly threatening, after all.

Skirts rustle ans swish as she approaches the gathering, a sunny smile turned on those present. "Good evening!" she chirps, bobbing her head in greeting, then crouching down to present her hand to the corgi to be duly sniffed. "And good evening to you, Master Corgi!"

Kira is, or was, educated in and exposed to higher society. She may have even participated at one point, but not in a long time. That said, she was told it was a requirement even if she isn't entirely sure why. So when she gets to the docks, she might be almost unrecognizable in a long, and properly poofy, blue gown. Her hair is even free, but also styled. As unusual as she is dressed, her smile is still present and recogniable, and she waves to others as she walks over. Carefully, and holding up her hem with the other hand. "Hello!"

Charlotte says, "Oops. I do apologize then." She then chuckles. "He is very handsome indeed. Father insisted on the Myrrdion Hunting dog himself, but Mom loved the corgi herself. She even had a pair of 'little sisters' in Poms.""

Mel is waiting for someone who's late, then? Well, he's an expert waiter. Five years in uniform is a lot of waiting experience. So he waits. He waits expertly, with the dogged determination of someone getting paid to wait who's willing to wait around all day to wait for something. Patience is the key. No busywork in the meantime is absolutely a perk.

Oh he does, he gives a sniff of the hand. And then two more before deigning her with a little sneeze and then looks toward the lucht with a knowing look - like some unspoken words between them. He gives another turn of the head and then it's back toward Kira as she makes her approach before Charlotte apologizes for the misstep of gender. He gives another little sneeze.

"Oh Westley, those winter allergies must be killing you." She reaches over and skritches behind his ear. A smile, and then looking up toward the others once more.

"He can be abit proud at times. He's a very good dog though. I don't think he'd care for poms." The Lucht smiles widely and turns to look back as there's a sound of rushing water. though she happens to be looking the wrong direction - the sound instead coming from the side. It takes her a few moments, and she leaps back with a raise of eyebrows as it suddenly becomes clear!

The rushing of water is waves of it pouring off the side of... A fish? No. It's metal, but it /is/ rising up from under the water. The crash of it slapping back down to the surface and creating a frothing white water all around next to the docks. What begins to emerge is a copper and steel in color, with intricate designs. An obvious nod to modern artificers and the ingenuity of magics unknown.

"Oh my! That is an entrance!" The lucht is positively bouncing.

Charlotte smiles and claps loudly. "Yes...that is quite an entrance, yes." She then chuckles as it continues. "Well..you did say he was making an entrance."

Kira smiles wider at the lucht and corgi Westley, then startles at the sudden splash and frothing. Watching the rising and opening metal thing, she asks, "Is anyone expecting.. that?"

Mel is not sure if this thing coming from under the water is the thing we're waiting for, or unspeakable enemies from the far side of whatever. It's so hard to tell in Alexandria. But since everyone else seems impressed rather than alarmed, he'll guess it's not an invasion this time and simply watch.

"I believe," Silmeria says, smiling at the corgi, "that it is to be our ride. Well.... *This* certainly promises to be an interesting evening, wouldn't you agree?"

The frothing continues until finally it's fully emerged, the water rivulets still splashing as a door opens on the side of the clean-shaped metal thing. A few men stand there, with their dress that of high fashion, two even carry canes to go along with it. As they look over the group, their eyes stop on the lucht.

"Ahh." One says, "I see the representative from the Dapper Dagger Dames has made it." An unspoken second half of that as the talker looks to the lucht.

"Perhaps if next time you might remember that Westley does not rush, but arrives in a timely manner as becoming a gentleman escorting a lady." The lucht shoots back, and with a FWUMP! she opens up her parasol and begins to walk across the bridge that has extended between the vehicle and the dock. The corgi of course follows at her side, with his nose up in the air. Though aglance is - of course - given to Silmeria.

"Well." The man says, looking over Kira, Mel, and Charlot-- he stops, looking to her footwear, a frown, and no hat? A deeper frown. "Mmm. Well, I guess people in Alexandria are not what they used to be." He returns his gaze up and a nod of his head toward Silmeria and the others. "Yes, well, welcome aboard the Nauteo. The porters will show yout he way to your cabins."

And the porters seem to simply materialize and head forward to take any of the baggage that people might have. With silver trays of tea.

Mel has got baggage? He's not sure. Do the clothes he wore here count as baggage? He'll follow along get shown to a cabin, his expression puzzled as he sips from the proffered cup of tea. Even that's better than common peoples' tea. Hrm.

"Oh! Oh, I guess you're right..." Kira admits after it opens and invitations are made. "Thank you," she replies to their hosts and transportation, before carefully making her way across the boarding plank.

Charlotte smiles to the man that looks her over. She even winks playfully at him. "Sadly, I prefer my hair to represent my 'hat' as it were. Hats, more often, get in the way of what I do and....while I've worn hats before...they tend to get stabbed." She then curtsies. "Thank you, sir, for allowing me on board."

As Charlotte walks by, one of the porters keeps trying to put a hat on her anyway.

Charlotte points at the porter. "Beret please. If you want me to wear a hat.....it, sadly, will not be a top hat."

Silmeria dips a curtsy to the gentleman, smiling and drawing a sheer black veil from her clutch and putting it on. "I *am* sorry, I wasn't certain if it would be appropriate. Religious observances, and all... Thank you *very* much for inviting me," she says, allowing her ubiquitous pack to be taken away by the porters as she steps on the gangplank. "This is a *fascinating* ship, I must say!"

"Quite right!" One of the men says, he wears a hat that looks stylized might as that of a Captain's hat, with a dress-coat that's double breasted with tails - buttons with small anchors and bronze. "This ship is one of our favorites. Especially when trying to move more unobtrusively." He motions to the inside, "It's a mixture of magic, nature, and artificer work that has never been seen before and may never be seen again."

"Mostly because of the cost." the lucht mutters to Silmeria and shoots the men a look, a tilt of her head up and she walks into the vehicle - waiting for her porter to show her and Westley (her corgi) the way to their cabin. The opened parasol protecting her from the bit of raining water that still runs off the side of the copper and steel sides of this ship that emerged from underwater.

"But, you see, it's a requirement." The man says as he keeps trying to put the tophat on her as unobtrusively as possible. OhGodsPleaseDon'tHurtMeIt'sJustMyJob...

All the rooms are well made, with a touch of opulance but not overly so. A classy level of it, with wood inlay that's polished, and a bed that's small but well furnished. Perhaps one of the more interesting things that might not be expected is the constant flow of fresh air - even as the ship begins under way and starts to sink.

Charlotte rolls her eyes, and takes the top hat herself to put it on her head. And doesn't even pull down on it, so it really looks stupid just on the top of her head. She has a rather nicely done crown craid, along with a long braid down her back. So a top hat looks really silly on her.

Mel is a bit nervous as the boat starts to sink. All airships land, it's a famous observation, but ships that sink rarely see the surface again in his limited experience. Though he did just see this one do exactly that. Once he's seen the cabin, he'll follow the fellow along to wherever he's supposed to meet the others. Or ... where will he be hanging out during this cruise?

Terewin is already in the sub, sitting on a couch while holding a tumbler of whiskey with ice. "Ah good afternoon!" he offers in greeting. "Marvelous way to travel, they were kind of enough to pick me up while I was on the way back from trip out west." he notes happily. He is dressed in a blue jacket with silver thread, white roses are embroidered on his cuffs and a black spider silk cravat matches a black vest. No hat of course, he would never muss his perfect hair.

No hat, but a porter is lurking near by as if waiting to place one on Terewin's head.

Terewin eyes the porter, a glance to communicate that anyone or anything that touches his hair better be sword-proof. None the less he relents, a hat materialized on his head, an illusion to be sure but it looks real enough. Plus illusions don't muss hair.

The comment about the cost earns a small chuckle from Silmeria, the inquisitor staring all about them with the wide-eyed curiosity that such a unique ship as this is due... And then they begin to sink, and her amazement seems to double. "Astounding!" she breathes, glancing here and there in hopes of a window she can press her face to. "And the air is still fresh! How *do* you manage it?"

As Terewin speaks up, Silmeria turns, giving the adventuring dandy a bright and cheerful wave.

The porter pipes up as Silmeria asks, "A contract with an air elemental, madam. There are two on board, in case one falls ill. There is also two water elementals to aid in the rising and sinking of the ship in conjunction with artificer machinations and magical reinforcement." The way he prattles it off, this is clearly not the first person to have wondered. Unfortunately, Silmeria does not find any windows - not yet anyway.

Dinner is called next, a number of hours later, and porters are sent to escort everyone to the same room that they once saw Terewin in. Though unlike last time, it has been opened up more. Couches moved and separated into a smoking lounge, and a table brought forward and out into the main with chairs to accompany. A vast sea green table cloth draped over it and candles were placed at intervals to provide just the right amount of lighting. People filtered in, including Westley (the corgi) who took a seat next to the lucht at the table (in his own chair incidentally) and he sat in it - waiting patiently with a tophat now upon his head of the same blue as his dashing overcoat.

With the people seated, one of the walls slowly rolls backward and there - in front of them - is a large viewport taking up an entire wall to see out into the black abyss with the biolumiessence of the sea coloring it like the stars in the sky, though of a shade of blues and greens..

Charlotte chuckles a bit as the sea is allowed to be viewed. "All in due time, am I right?" She says as she relaxes.

Mel is pretty impressed by all this, though now he's dreading what's going to come after. In his experience, any time someone with this much power and money is this lavish with his attentions, he's just buttering you up so he can tell you to do something reckless. Years in the military taught him that. "And a hearty meal for the condemned man," he mutters to himself as he looks over the table.

Terewin sits back in a stuffed leather seat, tumbler still in hand. "Bravo, marvelous presentation." he adds as he gently claps on the palm of the hand holding the glass.

As the viewport opens, Silmeria's eyes light up. "Oh, *wonderful,*" she says, hands clasping over her heart. For awhile, all she can seem to do is watch the abyss drift by around them... but Mel's comment draws her back from the sight, as she gives him a reassuring smile. "We're all to die one day," she says gently. "Until then, best to take every drop of joy in life that may fall."

Mel eyes Silmeria. "You say 'one day' so casually. But you don't take note of whether that one day is tomorrow or in seventy years. To me," he says, "that makes a difference. If it doesn't make a difference to you, that's fine." He -is- taking as much from the environment as he can, as far as cheer goes.

The stars in the windows continue to pass by as the water is agitated, swirls look like nebula and the roll off the front of the submerged vehicle before crashing across the window. The food is well spread out and the drinks are (of course) flowing. A look toward Mel is given and a frown. "Well, we are going to ask for you to handle a problem, yes. We also wanted to see what sort of men you are!" A nod of his head.

"Or /women/." Pipes up the lucht with a look down her nose toward her plate, not toward the person in question - that would be far too outwardly aggressive.

Westley sniffs and raises his nose up and to the side in the direction of the lucht, a snub!

"Right." He clears his throat, "Ah, excuse me then. Men and women." He nods his head in the direction of the lucht and then the other adventurers. "We do not believe that this will be an issue, but it is all rather odd." He spoons himself some of the peas and onions before some of the meat is sliced off and placed on his plate next.

Westley is served some meat as well, but he waits as the little meat cubes are waiting to be eaten.

Charlotte actually gets a bit of meat and other food as well, but with quite a bit of manners. It's almost like she was raised by nobles. "What sort of problem, sir?" She says as she arranges her plate as she likes, and not sloppily.

Mel is on what amounts to his best manners. Five years in the ranks, though, and maybe a year and change at the Ox have not put any sort of a polish on his knife-and-fork skills. "Handling a problem," he says, talking with his mouth full, "is fine. Even odd problems, sir. Gods know we've dealt with enough of those." He takes a sip of the drink and goes on, "So tell us about this problem. And how it's odd. Odd is better than an ogre in the outhouse."

Terewin takes some food and politely eats it in small bites. "Indeed, how can my sword be of service? I have experience in dealing with a wide variety of problems and it is my hope diplomacy and cool heads will ever prevail in any conflict."

With the pertinent questions being asked by her fellow adventurers, Silmeria simply applies ehrself to her food, eating neatly and slowly, savoring every bite and following the talk with interested eyes.

"Well-" he says, cutting the meat, "-it seems, gentlemen-" ahem-SNIFF-snub, "-erm, gentlepeople, that there has been a disturbance out in Veyshan. Some reports that can't possibly be true you see." He pauses, setting his knife down across the plate before switching hands and picking up the fork with the bit of meat.

"Err, how do I say this properly-" He lets the meat waver, "-I suppose I might as well just be out with it. It seems, gentlepeople-" a quick glance at the lucht, "-that there's rumors of a dragon on the loose and destroying things.'

The lucht dabs at her mouth with a napkin. "Excuse me." she pipes up, "That is preposterous. Please, keep it to something that makes sense. A winged lizard-like creature should be a more than adequate description."

Since the lucht is eating, Westley is too. Carefully eating the bits of meat and not dribbling. The corgi even manages to keep the monocle in place.

Terewin nods and his swirls the whiskey on his glass. "Ah word of mouth is so unreliable. Sounds like we can expect to deal with a creature that may or may not be a dragon and likely has very similar features if not?" he offers as a suggestion. "What is it we do with this creature? Relocate it?"

Charlotte tilts her head. "A winged lizard-like creature could be many things, ma'am." She says still eating, but not with her mouth full. "Sir...does it breathe fire?"

Mel arches a brow, and says, "You see, saying that was simple enough." He'll scarf some more food, because it -is- really good. "And if it's not a dragon, then it's fine, too. Because we all know those sorts of rumors are prone to inflation. It can't be Sandy," of course, "because there's no concurrent rumor about it shooting flame out its butt. But I'm sure we're all capable of seeing about these rumors."

"Well, yes-" The man starts, nodding his head toward Terewin, "And as you said. But, it is described unanimously as a dragon by those that have escaped from it. Hushed whispers really, but we don't believe a word of it! Not a word." He lightly hits his balled hand against the table. A pause, he clears his throat and straightens his vest and cuffs.

"Excuse me for that outburst." A nod of his head, "What I meant to say is, we don't believe it at all. We are, however, quite engaged elsewhere and we thought it prudent to inquire and you all were picked. Greatly appreciated you see. But either way, we need to you all to uncover what exactly is going on and to - well - remove it." He nods his head and cuts another piece of meat.

"What Reginald isn't telling you-" The lucht speaks up again, scooping a fea peas and a pearl onion, "-is that it has left few, and that it is on the border of Veyshan where there are farming communities in the more temperate plateaus. Those poor farmers." She eats her bite of food.

Terewin ponders "Do you know what kind of dragon it is claimed to be? It it is indeed harrassing the local populace then we can set about tracking it down and removing it." he says with a firm nod.

"They certainly need *someone* to do something about it," Silmeria agrees, nodding gravely. "You said," she asks the lucht, "that it's been leaving survivors. What exactly have they been saying, fanciful or no?

Mel nods, though the penchant these folks have for beating around the bush is frustrating him. "Adventurers are a much better choice for fighting dragons. And dragon-like occurences," he adds dryly. "I'm curious why you say that it can't be dragons?"

"We don't know." The man responds to Terewin, "No one seems to really be saying the same thing. People say it shoots fire, others electricity, and - I in no way exaggerate - some even claim it's frost. About the only thing people haven't said is rainbows, so we do know it's not Lady Sandiel." Reginald nods his head and then fidgets again. learly the idea that it could be a dragon is something that's upsetting to him.

"What?" Reginald says, looking to Mel. His eyes move from one side of the table to the other, "Well, I mean... because they're dragons. They simply are above such things of course, and are rare nonetheless. To think it would be? It would be tantamount to insanity!" He nods his head and pokes abit more at his food - he seems to have lost his apitite some.

The swirl of the stars outside the window continues, the greens turning more to blues now as they continue through the water. Soon the dinner is cleared slowly, alcohol and cigars to take its place - offered to each in turn.

Westley of course declines a cigar but does poke at a port.

"Ah!" The lucht says, looking toward Silmeria. "Exactly! Exactly! Someone needs to help the farmers - that's my point. They are so undervalued, but without them none of us would make it through the hard winters. Some often forget about the plight of the common person, and the need for their work in our every day. But - yes, yes - like you asked. The few that get free talk of terrible shrieks, the beat of heavy wings, a yell of power with the blast of the elements and they ran. Looking back they saw it, not overly large, hovering over the town and destroying it. The odd part is the sound of chanting they often report as well."

Charlotte ponders a bit more, but she's more eating than anything else. "How many were reported?"

Mel eyes Reginald skeptically. "If your tutors neglected to tell you about Maugrim's rapacious wyrms marauding across the landscape, unstoppable beasts of destruction bent on scourling the land bare of life, then you must have had a very dull childhood." Mel shivers at a couple of the threats /he/ was threatened with. Not cleaning his room, not doing chores, things like Dragons eating boys who wouldn't eat their peas .... ugh.

Terewin nods "Sounds like we will have to go find out things for ourselves. If there is chanting involved it may just all be a trick for all we know." he sips at his liquor. "We will handle this."

"That is a pretty puzzle indeed," Silmeria muses, accepting a snifter of brandy with a grateful nod. "While I've heard several of those same tales myself," she says, nodding in Mel's direction, "I'm inclined to be a bit more skeptical... But even if it's not a proper wyrm, it's likely to be a dire threat nonetheless, and it really doesn't matter *what* it is, so long as it's *stopped.*"

"That's the spirit!" The lucht says, nodding toward Silmeria with a smile. She glances back toward her Corgi. "Isn't that right? Wonderful to see they're onboard for the right reasons, am I right Sir Chocolate Chip?"

The Corgi is lapping at the port. Pauses, looks up at her with a blink.

The lucht cover her mouth, "I'm sorry, Westley."

The Corgi snubs!

"Oh don't be that way. They're good people, I'm sure they'd love to hear about you saving Lady Buttercup." She waves her hand lightly in his direction and gives a smile before looking back toard the front of the table. "Quite sorry, Reginald, for not telling you. He was rather enjoying being incognito."

Reginald blinks, then looks between the lucht and the corgi, a lower of an eyebrow, "Err... Quite alright, Lady Alexandra." He says with a slow nod, "And that is the idea." He responds to Silmeria, "Quite." He looks around the table.

"It's several days to get out to Veyshan, until then - please - enjoy your stay aboard the Nauteo. We will give you a ring that will summon us when the problem has been solved." Reginald swirls his cognac and then takes a sip.

Mel agrees with Silmeria. "Yes," he says to their hosts. "We Explorers will investigate and put a stop to /whatever/ it is." He's trying one of the cigars, and enjoying the brandy. Must be nice to be rich. Wait, he's got enough gold he ought to be able to live like this ... Ah, several days? This is going to be nice. And getting paid for it, besides. But ... the dragon might be a bit of problem. "Have you got a library on board?" he wonders. There ought to be something about dragons there....

Terewin nods "Some light reading would make the trip go quickly, you wouldn't happen to have the latest by the Crimson Pen by chance? Something of a guilty pleasure." he admits with a shrug.

Charlotte says, "Don't worry, we'll handle it." She says as she cleans her plate. "Wonderful meal, by the way.""

"Indeed, my compliments to the chef," Silmeria says, sitting back in her chair and lifting her brandy in salute. "And I do agree, if we can do any research on the way, all the better."

It seems the revelation that the corgi is, indeed, not Westley passed unnoticed and so the corgi resumes his lapping of the port while the adventurers inquire. There's a nod from Reginald and he gestures off toward the bow of the ship, "There is indeed several copies of the Crimson Pen's latest, and a small library that we have. Though I do no know if there is much on dragons." He gives another swirl of the liquid and stares down into the depths of it. "You are all free to roam as you like though, but we would ask you to please refrain from staying too frequently on the bridge and if you wouldn't mind giving the engineering room in the back a wide berth."

Mel nods about where we can go on the ship. He's certainly no use on the bridge or engine room, so staying away from those places is no trouble. Maybe he'll see about the kitchen. That ought to give them apoplexy.

Terewin stands, drink in hand and bows. "In that case I take my leave to go explore more of Alexandrias finest writer." he notes before going off to find the library.

Silmeria stands as well, leaving her empty brandy on the table and moving away from her chair, dipping a brief curtsy. "And I shall see if any treasures are hidden in your library, good sir, madam," she says, before swishing after Terewin in a rustle of petticoats, singing quietly to herself as she disappears down the passageways.

"o/~ Dig, dig, gravedigger... dig, gravedigger, dig... work that shovel with vigor, gravedigger, 'fore rigor mortis sets in, dig~!"

Since it looks like everyone's departing, Mel will put out his cigar, gulp the last of his brandy, and see this library and see if it;s got anything more than ight reading.

There's the rest of the dinner party who sit around and continue to discuss recent events. The most outspoken among them being Lady Alexandra who keeps bringing up the farmers with some measure of regularity. Sir Chocolate Chip keeps quiet, of course, but enjoys a second port while the discussions are made.

The library is fairly small, it is a submersible vehicle after all and not exactly designed with tons of space in mind. That said, they do still keep a variety of books and the Crimson Pen's work is on display. There is also a spot to sit and watch the outside water world pass by because - you see - the library is in the absolute extreme of the bow and uses both material and magic to give a view that rivals that in the dining room.

GAME: Mel rolls perception: (4)+12: 16

GAME: Charlotte rolls perception: (17)+10: 27

GAME: Terewin rolls perception: (1)+18: 19 (EPIC FAIL)

GAME: Silmeria rolls perception: (11)+19: 30

Charlotte blinks as she finds her way around the different books with types of dragons....and sorts finds what she's looking for. "huh......"

Mel reads about fauna of Veyshan, but find very little on dragons. "Hrm. But Djin are common. And fly around, and cause destruction. So it may just be a case of poor observation when running for your life...."

Terewin spends the time absorbed in the Crimson Pen's works, taking careful notes and apparantly studying the texts very hard, several time muttering about finding clues. He is on to something, although not really relevant.

"A good number of arcanists too, so close to the Charn border," Silmeria says, putting her own books aside and rubbing the bridge of her nose. Replacing her spectacles, she sighs quietly. "A pretty puzzle indeed."

Charlotte says, "Well that explains a few things. It's near charn." She then rolls her eyes. "ugh. So, for all we know, it might be charn.""

The days continue and it's rather pleasant - assuming you don't mind the close quarters and little stops above the waves. Though the fact that you don't is probably more of a positive than a negative. This time of year is often stormy and that means it would be quite rough seas. Instead of that sort of travel you have beautiful music, congnac and whiskey, fresh air, well prepared meals, and conversation with any of those onboard that you wish. Lady Alexandra and Sir Chocolate Chip are often heard arguing with other members of the Gentleman's League about the efforts being given out to the farmers near Alexandria - whether or not there's a crisis at hand.

Eventually it does come to an end though, and in this case that means the vehicle surfaces near the shores of Veyshan and you are all let out at a small port city near the borders of the Nisaan Sandsea. There you'd be able to acquire the transportation you might need for the travels ahead, as the places that were attacked are at least another five days away on camelback and the last two of that will be up into the plateaus.

We pick up next time with the plans and your travel for this investigation and - hopefully - the answers to what all is happening out in Veyshan.