Seawater crashed under the bow of the longboat, spraying the front of the vessel in a fine mist of salty spray that matted the long, black mane of Evar Varvudda standing upon the bowsprit. Clutching the mast rigging, the Jarl of Sentinel stared into the fogbank with a steely gaze, unfazed by the bobbing of the longboat or the cold seaspray washing over him. Even as droplets of seawater glistened upon the edges of his well-groomed beard and the cloak of reindeer fur draped over his leather tunic, the Jarl did not remove his attention from the towers and ramparts peering out above the rank-smelling fogbanks. The deckhands toiling behind Evar, like all those who served under the Jarl of Sentinel, were accustomed to such behavior. The young Jarl had proven to be a stern and fastidious master. When Evar wished something done, he was known to be nigh obsessive in seeing it through - going a as long as a day or two without sleeping or eating until some minor task was accomplished. What Evar wished, he got.

What Evar desired today was an audience with the High Queen, the master of all the Broken Lands now that Aigoth Stone Foot was dead. When the word of the High King's bizarre passing reached Sentinel, Evar immediately made preparations to make for Kingsport. Three days prior, Evar and seventeen of his thanes left Sentinel aboard all of his longboats for the capital of the Broken Lands. Now, at last, he had arrived.

Fishermen in tiny wicker coracles paddled hastily out of the way to avoid the four great longboats that had suddenly burst through the veil of fog surrounding the harbor of Kingsport. Though the deckhands of the ships had manned the oars for lack of wind in the still, foggy air of the harbor, the sails bearing the blue octopus crest of Clan Varvudda had been left completely unfurled. This was no error made by unseasoned longboat captains, but an entirely intentional act meant to announce the arrival of Jarl Evar Varvudda.

"See to it that Father is helped out of the boat," Evar ordered over his shoulder before resuming watch over the harbor of Kingsport. Just above the fog, Evar could make out the guardsmen scurrying about upon the walls and atop the guard towers; horn blasts trumpeting through the fetid mist. The arrival of the Varvudda flotilla had been noted.

The longboats bypassed the wharves and jetties built to accommodate deep-draughted vessels, rowing directly toward a gravelly beach on the periphery of the city. The longboat lurched as the stones of the shore crunched under their sturdy hulls. When he felt his ship come to a complete stop, Evar simply leapt from the bowsprit and landed amidst the roiling surf of the beach with a meaty splash. One by one, the other longboats beached themselves upon the shore with long, crunching groans.

The deckhands soon followed Evar onto the beach with bundles of thick mooring rope, before setting about heaving the longboats well onto the beach out of reach of waves that might carry the ships out to sea. His thanes placed a long gangplank down from the bow of one longboat and shortly thereafter descended onto the beach with their arms firmly grasping the arms of a frail, withered man who descended down the gangplank with jittery, unsure steps: Vignar Varvudda, Jarl Emeritus of Sentinel.

"Father, I trust the journey has treated you well." Evar greeted, gently wrapping his arms around his shoulder. Vignar slowly rose his trembling arms to embrace his son before nodding slowly in response. The former Jarl of Clan Varvudda had not aged gracefully. Weak and nearly-mute, Vignar left the leadership of Sentinel to Evar about a year ago and his condition had only worsened since then. This would almost certainly be Vignar's last visit to the capital. Evar would see to it that it was a fortuitous occasion for his father.

"I imagine it has been a very long while since you have seen Kingsport." Evar commented. For a concerning moment, Vignar did naught but slowly roll his head back and make a gurgling sound. Evar's thanes pressed in closer, fearing that the former Jarl was going to have another spell. Vignar then rolled his head back forward to hock a foamy wad of saliva onto the ground, relieving everyone and eliciting hearty laughter from the thanes and deckhands.

"My sentiments precisely, father."

As the laughter died down, a contingent of guards emerged from the mist and approached the Jarl and his retinue. The thanes gathered around Evar and Vignar, quickly sobered by the arrival of the Queen's men.

"My fellow subjects, I am Evar Varvudda, Jarl of Sentinel and Master of Askan. I appear before you today to seek an audience with our High Queen. There is much that needs to be discussed."

"I regret to inform you, good Jarl, that the High Queen is not seeing anyone for some time," the gravelly-voiced leader of the guard contingent declared. "I will, however, pass your condolences on to he-"

"I am not here to provide well-wishes," snapped Evar. "I have come to invoke a Moot."