[center][img]https://img.roleplayerguild.com/prod/users/788b1383-e0c5-40bd-97e0-971a358c5981.jpg[/img][/center] [url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DGIXT7ce3vQ][b]Ambience[/b][/url] [color=LightSlateGray][h3]8:19am Elsewhere, on Gnok Island...[/h3] A light fog dissipates as a ship pulls into the harbor bearing the flag of [i]The Black Lion Trading Company[/i], the early morning turns to swelter as the sun is well on its journey across the skies. The island, still within the tropical band familiar to Guillan, was for the most part a lush tropical island, with sparse bits of rocky, sandy croppings strewn about here and there across the island. One of these sparse bits of land, cleared of vegetation long ago to make way for a great cathedral. This holy site was once busy with many patrons who would make the pilgrimage annually to fortify their strength in their faith. Entire families would make the journey if they could afford to do so, to witness the sunrise on the longest day of the year. A day of gratefulness, and remembrance, and for a renewal of hope Before the sun begins to make its way lower down the horizon as the winter approaches. To prepare for these months to come, and to strengthen the bond a family shares through their faith. This practice died out some five hundred years ago, as the faith progressed to what is now known as [i]The Keepers of The Light[/i] in the current era. The Cathedral had fallen into disrepair, and had been scavenged throughout the course of time. It now sat atop a sandy hill, a crumbling skeleton of spires and buttresses, whipped by the salt and the sand. A near forgotten ruins, only known to the local inhabitants who paid it little attention. A small town and port is the only thing still inhabited, and was of a fairly modest size. Comprised of fishermen and those who practiced the most basic trades, completely self sufficient from the outside world and not reliant on need of supply. The tropical forests were bountiful enough and the population was small enough in size not to put a strain on the natural resources available. These people, many of which had came to the island to seek a life of solitude, to be left alone and far enough away from any real civilization, and the long fingers of it's lawmen. They keep to themselves and wont go out of their way to greet anyone on the street, but modest enough to help when asked or welcoming enough to provide services when needed. One would argue that these were the best types of people, especially if one was accustomed to the hordes of Guillan. Content in minding their own business, and tending to their selves and their own needs, but a very tight-knit community, held together by the sinew they all shared. It was a paradise for them. One they would not see changed in the slightest way, and this gave them strength in that shared bond, a silent and and understood constant... The trading company was well versed in dealing with all sorts of cultures and knew how to ease their way in to just about anywhere. They knew just how to weasel themselves into a position to acquire whatever they desired, and held a strong monopoly across the globe. Their reach and wealth has no bounds, and could even be considered a superpower in their own right. [i]Which brings one to wonder[/i]... just what would the Black Lion be interested in on such a small and irrelevant location? [h3][center][i]One wonders indeed.[/i][/center][/h3] The party faced a journey of ninety eight miles, a good three weeks at sea with adequate winds, and maybe a bit shorter if their luck and the winds permitted. Lord Vargas had prepared well for the trip, and there was little concern as far as rations were concerned. As long as nothing dramatic happened along the way the party would make it to Gnok well faring, and unscathed. Captain Griffin was a well seasoned man, and so was his crew. Many of them Afriks from Baakara, and as hardy as they came. Great looming hulks of men, hardened by sail and sea, donned by decorative scars in their skin, and many scars that were not. Intimidating men, the lot of them. Lord Vargas was no slouch when it came to those he would call his retainers, and Captain Griffin and his crew were some of the best to be had, and well equipped to the seas surrounding Guillan. This was for certain. The crew had been busy since before the sun had crested the horizon and were eager to meet the sea. Captain Griffin paced the deck in anticipation as the quartermaster made sure that everything was in order. Vargas had already met with him earlier, a conversation made privy only to themselves. The crew paid them no mind as they toiled away on the rigging and loading of the hull. Vargas produced another coin purse which he gave to the captain, the two nodded and Vargas left as quickly as he had emerged. One would wager that this outing had more facets to it than one could see, submerged just beneath the surface... and there was real danger to be sure. One wouldn't shuck out so much coin if it wasn't of great worth, in whatever form that would take on. For one that was as well off as Vargas was it was to be sure that coin, or the promise of more of it was not to be it... [/color] [center][img]https://img.roleplayerguild.com/prod/users/e2f26c0d-b434-421b-b77d-de6c2d5225f6.png[/img][/center]