[b][color=00aeef][u]Far Harbor [/u][/color][/b] Zadok the Watchmen was making his usual rounds atop part of the rebuilt hull along the coast, carrying a large polehook which he leaned loosely on his left shoulder. The grizzled old Harborwatch veteran was cursing both the cold sea spray and the stench of rotting fish that permeated the air and looking forward to a hot bowl of creamy vegetable soup that he knew his wife would be cooking up this very moment back home. His usual spot by the fireplace in his cozy easy chair was calling to him as well and within less than an hour he’d be off duty and racing home to warm up. He stopped along the hull’s ramparts and looked out towards the water, the fog was light today but still obscured part of the bay and the ocean beyond. He stared out longingly, daydreaming about how good that soup would be, before his vision focused in on a shape that began to clearly manifest itself through the fog. It didn’t take the old seafarer long to realize what it was, “Red Death take me that’s a ship!” He sputtered out, and immediately ran towards the nearest bell station atop the hull. He began furiously ringing the bell and shouting at the top of his lungs to alert the rest of the Harborwatch, “Ship sighted! All hands! Ship in the bay!” He knew full well it wasn’t one of their fishing vessels, but who could it be? -------------------------------------------------------- The bell mounted in the Far Harbor church tolled loudly and its sound carried across the bay and even to Cadillac mountain. Members of the Harborwatch raced towards the docks along with a few civilians, armed with whatever weaponry they had on hand including pole hooks, meat hooks, and lever action rifles. Some of the Harborwatch ran up to the hull and grabbed hold of large swivel harpoon guns mounted on its wooden parapets and swung them towards the approaching ship. Alarm mounted as it was soon noticed that far from being alone, this ship appeared to be the first in an entire fleet of vessels that were now anchoring themselves just off shore. When the foreign sailors began to disembark and tie up their ship, none of the Harborwatch made a move to stop them, but instead watched cautiously as someone who appeared to be their leader approached. Decked in marine armor and with a curiously speared shark crest emblazoned on his helmet, he struck an imposing figure along with the rest of his entourage. “Hello. I am Chief Liam Carter-Spearshark, of the Spearshark Trapper clan. I am here to look for my relatives, who travelled here to hunt years ago. I don’t want a fight unless you do, and I would be happy to talk to whatever you folks have as a leader.” At the mention of the word ‘Trapper’ the Harborwatch reflexively gripped their weapons tighter, despite the chieftains apparent polite demeanor, and inaudible murmurs filtered through the crowd. “Lower your weapons,” Came the call from the back. Captain Avery strode forward. She was dressed in a Harbor fisherman’s outfit upon which straps of scrap metal had been attached to form a makeshift armor and wore a brown tricorn hat upon her head. An old fishing net was draped about her left shoulder like a sidecape. She’d obviously come dressed for battle, and when the Chieftain offered peaceful interaction she was more than happy to accept “I’m Captain Avery, I speak for the Harborfolk. You’ll have to excuse our somewhat tense demeanor and show of weapons, we don’t get many visitors to Far Harbor and we’re always cautious of new faces. I’m sure you can understand. If you’re here to talk, I’m happy to acquiesce. Perhaps we can talk somewhere a bit more private, if you’d be willing to follow me.” She looked around at the Harborwatch before continuing, “I only ask that you and any who accompany you disarm before you do so. We’d appreciate a show of courtesy. You have my word and honor as Captain that you’ll be granted safe passage.” (OOC: if the Trappers refuse to disarm, Avery will still take them in but the Harborwatch will be on their guard) ------------------------------------ Avery led the Chieftain towards her house situated on the docks. She welcomed him and any members of his entourage in and bid them to sit around a large table on the lower floor. She removed her hat and placed it on the table to the side before sitting down herself. “Before we begin, can I offer you anything? Something hot to drink? Perhaps a bit of food?” She then nodded to one of the Harborwatch who’d entered the house and was leaning up against the far wall, “Fetch them anything they want from the Last Plank. Tell Mitch that it’s on me.” Avery shifted uncomfortably in her seat before she continued and addressed their leader, Spearshank, “You said that you came here looking for your kin; fellow Trappers. I confess that we did not realize that the Trappers here were part of a larger group, although we did know that they came from beyond our shores. If you are here seeking them, then I’m afraid I have some unwelcome news. The Trappers who were on this island were driven mad by the fog, and lost to it. Either falling to the creatures that dwell in the deep fog or driven out by Acadia when they pacified this part of the Island.” She held up her hand, hoping to calm any immediate protest, “And before you become quick to anger or judgement. Know that your kin caused much harm to this island and its people. I know many of our Harborfolk, especially those obstinate few who tried to eke out a living in the wilderness, were lost to Trapper attacks and viciously murdered. So understand that we have lost friends and family as well, but even so I do not fault them completely for their actions: the fog is ultimately to blame for consuming them as it has so many others.” Avery paused and took a deep breath, “So with that said, I’m sure you have questions aplenty. I’ll do my best to answer them, provided we can all remain civil.”