[center]76th of Zieliah, Year 698
Riddom[/center]

Seagulls cackled overhead, choppy waves sloshed and churned underfoot. The barnacle-encrusted wharves of Riddom's harbor teemed with activity in the early morning as stevedores grunted and toiled hefting cumbersome loads over the gangplanks onto the ships or vice versa, all without the labor-saving cranes one might find in more developed parts of the world. All the same, the moored vessels were loaded and unloaded in preparation for the next leg of their journey. For most vessels, this next destination would be Korczyn or Soldier's Port. Relatively few vessels traversed the sea lanes along the Northern shores of Elyden, as most ships instead plied the more prosperous eastern and western coasts of the continent. Those ships that did stop in Riddom typically came to resupply and restock before leaving for their primary destinations. Even so, the port was busy enough for Lord Barad Anselm to track down a vessel calling Jihlava in Karvina its port-of-call.

"...Three, four, five." Lord Anselm counted aloud as he deposited a number of golden coins in the hands of the ship's captain. "Five golden crowns, for the trouble of sailing instead to Krakenheart in the Sharktooth Isles."

"A fair price indeed." The Karvaci captain agreed, tucking the crowns into a breast pocket. "Sir Alfric and his companions will have safe passage on this ship. You need not fear for their safety. You have my assurance that they shall return safely home in ten days time, Lord Anselm." The captain extended his palm to Barad's and shook it deftly, confirming their arrangement. "May their business there be fruitful."

"We got us a boat, lads." Alfric grunted, slapping Sers Rendel and Percy squarely on the back of the shoulder, gesturing for them to make their way up the gangplank to the Karvaci Cog after the captain and a handful of crewmates.

"I shan't keep you much longer." Said Barad. "Time is of the essence, you ship must arrive at Krakenheart before there is any attempt to enforce a blockade. Heldan has informed me during our last discussion that Houseblades have been sent out to see the embargo enforced. I have arranged that your vessel shall not layover for resupply until it reaches the Sharktooth Isles in the interest of preventing your captain from inadvertently learning of the embargo, but you must take care not to let it known to your hosts that travel to the Conrad holdings has been forbidden."

"You 'ave my word in tha matter." Alfric acknowledged. "I'd not worry about it, but ah'll keep it-"

Alfric was cut off by Sir Percy leaning weakly over the side of the ship, his face an unnatural hue of pale white. Even before the young knight had begun dry-heaving, both Barad and Alfric knew precisely what was coming next. After a wet, burpy cough, Sir Percy's mouth erupted with vomit, painting the hull of the vessel off-white with half-digested porridge. The Karvaci deckhands snickered to themselves as Percy continued dry heaving.

"Oi, Percy! Better find yer sealegs in short order, lad!" Sir Alfric called out to his companion.

"Perhaps Sir Percy need not join you for this excursion?"

"He'll be fine." Alfric dismissed. "Boy's a bit green around the ears, aye, but he's mighty calm under duress that one. In case this business with tha gems goes sour, I want two lads I can count on at mah back."

"See to it that it never comes to such a thing."

"I can make no promises, m'lord." Sir Alfric warned as he made his way up the gangplank onto the ship. "All ah'll say fer certain is that I ain't comin' back empty-handed."