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Dear Mr Curly,
I have done little travelling lately because I have been so dreadfully weary. Can it be true as the old Ecclesiastes said; that all things lead to weariness? Surely not. Perhaps the opposite is true: that all nothings lead to weariness. I have a peculiar feeling, Curly, that I am worn out from something I haven't yet done and the more I don't do it, the more exhausted I become. How strange. Could it be something I haven't realised? Perhaps it's something I haven't said? Something I haven't finished! It must be very large and true whatever it is and a lively struggle in the doing but I look forward to it immensely. I know I need it. First, however, I must curl up in my chair and sleep deeply with the duck. Perhaps I'll dream of this thing and wake up refreshed and do it. My fond wishes to you Mr. Curly, and to all Curly Flat.
Yours sleepily,
Vasco Pyjama
xxx
P.S. Not having breakfast can make you weary. That's for sure!
Michael Leunig. The Curly Pyjama Letters.

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It was the Redguard. Almost too easy. He didn't appear to be fooled by the complete ruse, but in hindsight Fendros believed that was to be expected. He and the pack smelled of lycan as well, after all. A slight pang of anxiety hit Fendros as Ahnasha walked out of the door to follow the Redguard. Trying not to think of his nightmares, he had to reassure himself that Ahnasha was well suited to the job. She would be fine.

The sound of a door opening behind Fendros caused him to turn around to face the counter again. The shopkeeper closed the door behind himself, holding in one hand a pelt of black fur. "This and few others I have drying in storage, is this what you were looking for?"

The shopkeeper extended the pelt to Fendros, who took it and inspected it. Looking closely, Fendros noticed that the hide had been cut to look like it came from a conventional wolf, but the scent of lycan was still on it. Along with the scent of the shopkeeper, as well as... something else. The hunters? "What do you think?" Fendros handed the pelt back to Meesei to see if she could glean a more accurate scent than he. Once she and any other interested pack members were done taking a look at it, Fendros handed the pelt back behind the counter. "This is indeed what we're looking for," Fendros said with a smile, "and you've done a sterling job processing them so far. Tell you what, we are going to be around for a few days, how long did you say these would take to be finished?"

"Three days," the shopkeeper returned the smile at a possible deal.

"Good! We will return when they are done and purchase them then." Fendros put his hands together, now that the Redguard is out of the way... "In the meantime, the one who sold these pelts to you, who is this hunter? Where might we find him... or her of course?"
It's cool bro.
Well, Ordov getting consistent steel of their own would certainly reduce the advantage that the Azu and Uraka have over them in that regard. Hmm.
When Fendros stepped into the general store, he hesitated and looked around. There were a few customers present, browsing the various wares. Amongst them was a smell he recognised as lycan. Trying not to compromise himself and the group, he continued slowly to the counter, eying the merchandise on display. Hanging on a rack near to the counter were a number of pelts that looked like they had been recently cleaned. At least the innkeeper wasn't lying.

"Hello there, travelers! Welcome to my store, is there anything I can help you with?" The portly Dunmer shopkeeper spread his arms wide from behind the counter, it was likely that even if he was as bigoted as the innkeeper his business would probably fail without a necessary variety in customers.

Fendros smiled back to him and addressed him with his accented Dunmeri, "Greetings. These pelts over here-" Fendros pointed to the rack nearby, "-are these the only ones you have for sale?"

"Well I have a number drying out in the store room but they won't be ready for a number of days. Uhh, these are the only prepared ones I have for sale at the moment," The shopkeeper weaved his fingers together as he explained.

"Ah, recently had hunters come by, have you?" Fendros said, glad that so far his ploys had worked. He glanced to one side for an instant to check on what patrons he could keep track of. He would have to be extra careful now that there was another lycan among them. Any information disclosed here would reach another pack as well.

The shopkeeper nodded, "As a matter of fact I have. A number of hunters have passed by recently to sell pelts. There must be rich game in the area, quite good for business, if I do say so myself."

Oh, you have no idea how correct you are, Fendros thought. "So... what kind of hunters have been passing by? Do they hunt large game, or keep small?"

"Hmm, a variety of pelts, but mostly large game by the looks. There isn't much small game to be had in these parts in the first place, if you don't count the rats." the shopkeeper furrowed his brow and tilted his head slightly, "if I may, why do you ask?"

"Of course. My partners and I, as you can probably tell, are from Cyrodiil." Fendros gestured with his palm to the pack, "we hear that there are a number of creatures in these parts that bear materials that are in fashion in the Imperial Provence presently. We are in the business of procuring those materials." Fendros raised his brow and angled his head forward, trying to play the part, "Tailors, to an extent."

"Ah," the shopkeeper grinned and put an index finger to the side of his nose, "so you wish to deal with the hunters directly? Broker a deal to minimise cost to yourself?"

"I can see you are a well versed businessman," Fendros replied, "but we do not wish to undercut your business first and foremost. You may have some of what we require."

"Go on."

"Thick, large pelts of wolf fur. Dark, if at all possible. Black is best." At this point Fendros was concerned that he was running out of subtlety, but this was the best method he could think of, and it was better than bringing it up directly.

The shopkeeper rubbed his chin, "Hmm... I might have one in storage. Give me a moment." The shopkeeper disappeared through a door behind him.

When the shopkeeper was out of sight, Fendros exhaled. He realised that his heart was beating hard and his hands were shivering slightly. He turned around and looked to everyone else, silent. He wondered whether they had anything to add, but it was unlikely while there were other customers in the store. Speaking of, Fendros scanned the various customers, trying not to make eye contact, but trying to locate any of them that were out of place. The smell of lycan still hung in the room. With a sudden idea, Fendros decided to gamble and try and provoke a reaction from the customers. "I told you we should have talked to that Orc we crossed paths with this morning," Fendros said to no one in particular in the pack, hoping that the group would catch on to his trick and play along, "you said he was a bandit, but he was loaded with the pelts we needed." Fendros let out a frustrated sigh, "he's probably miles to the south now, we'll never catch him."
Heheh, it's fine. It meant that I was able to get more study done today than usual.

Also, watch out, the RPG server has been finicky today.
Woo... post... chapter...
Sarid-Ren, city waterfront.

Posknat surveyed the crowd that was forming on and around the waterfront. Not a sea of faces, but more appropriately a still stream of faces, if only for their position in the long, narrow stretch that was the dock. Kharis and humans alike had come to witness the opening moments of the first expedition from the Uraka to the southern Salt-Nyric, or ocean, and beyond. Around him, the soldiers, crew, and his own scholarly peers each were loading their belongings and various other goods on to the two galleys that sat waiting on the lake's surface. Mooring lines creaked as soft winds guided the docked ships into behaviour comparable to dogs pulling on their leashes, eager to set off. Posknat himself was eager to set off not only for anticipation of the journey, but of what lay in wait at his unknown destination.

A horn blast captured his attention from further within the densely housed dock. Down the main street that lead into the city, the crowd parted for a large number of armoured kharis mounted on horses, all holding spears and shields, save for two whom held Uraka banners in their hands. The soldiers, all in yellow mail and plates, contained within their formation two additional kharis marching abreast on their own mounts; Great Spirit Khivas, and his military councilman, Honoured Spirit Winleo. Khivas was in his ceremonial yellow robe and held a sabre in scabbard secured with a green sash, and a medium sized round shield slung on his back, made of steel. His attire was in keeping with all of his public appearances, the addition of the weaponry displaying his selected martial art, where otherwise in his council meetings weaponry was forbidden. Winleo was armoured similarly to the honour guard that protected them both, but was coloured black and grey, rather than yellow. Additionally, he held a spetum in his hand as his weapon and had his khari-snout-shaped helmet visor placed down to obscure his deformity. A set of small bronze antlers on his helmet denoted him as the supreme authority in the Uraka standing army, behind the Great Spirit himself who wore his circlet of silver antlers.

Realising the state of the deck, Posknat sprang into action. "Crew! Keep the deck clear! Move out of the way and let the guards through!" Posknat stifled a sense of frustration, "why is he early?" He muttered. Crewmen scurried about, moving crates and dodging out of the way when the first of the honour guard dismounted and marched up the gangway to inspect the ship. Winleo handed his spetum to an idle honour guard for convenience, but he was still armed with a straight short sword on his belt. The guards spent a few minutes checking nooks, crannies, containers, interiors and exteriors, sweeping the ship for any sign of danger. Satisfied, Khivas and Winleo dismounted and strode up the gangplank themselves, their heads and eyes looking up and around for the first time at the strange galleys that had been built for the journey. Whenever the two officials came within a distance of any of Posknat's crew, the crew would straighten up and hold their left fist to their chest in salute, and in respect. Though bowing and even prostration was commonplace amongst other kingdoms, the Uraka felt that they only owed such submission to the Horned One and the Fluid One themselves. The Uraka salute was not directly a sign of submission, but a gesture of respect and of willingness and ability to assist.

Khivas and Winleo took several moments holding their hands behind their backs, looking at the rigging and deck. Posknat could see movement that denoted an exchange of comments to one another, but they were too quiet to hear from where he was standing. With looks of deliberation, Khivas and Winleo turned towards Posknat and walked up to him. Posknat immediately snapped into a straight posture and brought his fist to his chest.

Khivas was the first to speak, his voice was low and carried authority, but also had compassion. "And you must be Posknat, who penned the requests to us for this great journey." Khivas gestured with one hand for Posknat to be at ease as he spoke.

Posknat quickly threw glances to them both, not only was he taken off guard, but it was the first time that he met the Great Spirit in person. He had liaised with Winleo on a couple of occasions for organisational purposes, but it was far less formal back then. Posknat's own attire of the deep blue faded smock of a ret-khari certainly held a higher contrast to his guests now. "Correct, Harmonious One. Welcome aboard the Ocean-Seer." Posknat's voice was as confident as a leader of his position should be, but it hid his own nervousness at facing the leader of his country.

"The Ocean-Seer? A fitting name for a vessel of exploration." Khivas held his hands together in front of himself and nodded to Winleo. Winleo's head moved, but his expression was stony courtesy of his helmet. Khivas continued, "What, pray tell, is the name of the completed second galley, ret-khari?"

"The name of the second galley is the Wave-Seeker, Great Spirit."

Khivas angled his head down and looked Posknat in the eye. Posknat felt as if his very soul was being read by his leader. "Suitably daring," Khivas remarked, before raising his head to its previous position, "now then, the druids will be arriving later to bless the journey. For now, I require and audience with you below the deck, ret-khari. Honoured Spirit Winleo and I have matters to discuss with you." Khivas brought one hand in the direction of the ladder stairs at the stern of the ship, "have your crew wait outside, if you please."

"Of course, Great Spirit." Posknat looked to the crew, who were all present and in awe. He waved them away with the understanding that they had heard the Great Spirit's order as it had been spoken. Winleo raised a mail covered hand toward the honour guard procession on the dock and gestured them to the ship. The honour guard did not move, but five servant kharis scurried forth from their ranks, previously completely unseen. Two of the servants carried between them a low table with a number of cushions tied to its top, the other servants carried a tablecloth and a tray of ceramic cups, carafe, and a bulbous jar that likely held tea leaves. With their hurried but impeccably balanced servants, Winleo and Khivas strode below deck with Posknat in tow.

By the time the three finished their slow descent into the cramped hold of the galley behind the servants, they beheld a fully set table with tea for three and a thick candle to light the dim space. Somehow, the carafe steamed with hot water, even when marched down from the great-temple. Winleo and Khivas sat down cross-legged on a cushion each as if they were at home. Winleo even removed his helmet and shook his head clear, before addressing Posknat for the first time, his speech impediment as present as the scar that caused it. "Come, sit with us Posknat, now we can talk as equals."

Posknat blinked, suspicious at the sudden change in tone. Apprehensively, he seated himself down on the last free cushion. A servant shuffled forward out of the shadows and spooned tea leaves into the carafe to infuse, Posknat being the only person to turn his head in noticing the act. Looking across at his now far more relaxed looking guests, Posknat wondered what this was all about. He was expecting some kind of quick ceremony, a speech, and then to set off.

"I apologise for not informing you of my intentions sooner, Posknat. I did not mean to interrupt your preparations." Khivas articulated.

Posknat was only confused further, "Great Spirit, your will is unquestionable, I would not think it necessary-"

"-Ah, ah. Stop Posknat." Khivas waved a hand to interrupt him, "we're equals here, remember? In front of the crowds, you may behave as such, but for now it is my will that we speak on the same level." Khivas would not elaborate that he found the pomp and circumstance of his position tiresome when interacting with others in general, but he often took such a relaxed stance when in private like this.

Unsure, Posknat glanced to one side, then back to Khivas, then nodded slowly.

"Good. Now, I believe when we offered you provisions, you turned down our own galleys and insisted that you finish the ones you were already building. We did not find your refusal insulting, we thought it proactive that you had organised for your own vessels. We had not fathomed that your galleys would be so different, so... beautiful." Khivas smiled, "Neither myself, nor the people outside have likely seen such boats before. Tell us about them."

Posknat breathed in, he was proud of his galleys. Originally, they had been built with a modicum of secrecy, until he received news that the council had agreed to help him. "I am glad you asked, Harmonious One. I will tell you how they were built." Posknat adjusted himself and began, not seeing the harm in indulging the tale of his galleys to his benefactors. "Months before I petitioned the Honoured Spirits for my expedition, a human tyuntar was accepted into the order, promoted to a tyinu-khari and placed under my jurisdiction. He says that he was not Ordovin, he comes from another human kingdom, across the ocean from Ordov. A place he kept secret. Running a jurisdiction of scholars and researchers myself, I questioned the new tyinu-human, who was named Karlsen ji'Karl Vorenstat, on his knowledge. In his language, he is a 'shipwright', a designer and builder of boats to traverse oceans. He had much knowledge on how to build such boats, as well as what is required to use them. The skills and equipment and other details. He built these galleys with the assistance of some of my jurisdiction, as well as carpenters, smiths, and weavers lent from other ret-kharis." Posknat, now engaged in his explanation fully, moved his hands to imitate the flow of the hull design, "he insisted that the hull be curved, not flat like our boats, and built with a skeleton first, a skeleton like a fish, but made from wood. The hull, he said, is flexible, but strong, for bearing the high waves of the ocean. He also insisted on a large fin that runs down the underside of the galley, he called it a keel, and said that with it, outriggers would not be necessary as with our own ships, giving the galley space to move and stay reliably upright. But, there was one detail he kept from our own boats," Posknat raised one finger, "our sails. He said that most ships from his homeland had great square sails, which were effective, but could not sail in as many directions as the triangular sails that we use on the lake and the river. If we were to be exploring in places without charts, he mentioned, the flexibility would serve us well."

Great Spirit Khivas smiled widely at Posknat's explanation. It made sense that the ship's aesthetics would also be its boons, he could deduce that much despite not being an expert in boats. "Very impressive, Posknat. This Karlsen-tyinu-human, he is coming with you on this voyage?"

"Yes, I think that even if I forbade him to accompany us, he would swim after the galleys until I reconsidered." Posknat said, with hopes that the attempt at humour wound not be unwelcome. Judging by both Khivas and Winleo releasing a small chuckle, it was not misplaced. The ice was broken, it seemed. Posknat relaxed. Khivas tapped his fingers three times next to his empty cup and a servant shuffled forward without a word. "Pour us tea," Khivas ordered. The servant complied and did not spill a single drop as he filled each of their cups with brown water with specks of dark leaves. Posknat did not know that even the highest ranks enjoyed their tea.

"I suppose we should not delay the true reason of this meeting." Khivas brought his cup to his lips and took a small sip, before leaving the beverage to cool further, "Posknat, when I first read your writ to request provisions for an expedition, I read words that I had not heard from any ret-khari in my lifetime. For too long we have been afraid to venture forth. Our satisfaction with our own has bred a complacency that has taken form not apparently within our federation, but in comparison to the surrounding lands."

Posknat’s eyes squinted, unsure. "What do you mean, Harmonious One?"

Khivas obliged him with further explanation, "you perhaps know of the state of the surrounding realms? We have sourced our own private information on what kingdoms we know. The warlords to the east, on the plains, apart from occasional incursions they do not pose a threat." Khivas leaned forward, "However, there is rumour of a more powerful kingdom beyond those lands, one we know little enough about, but is unforgiving in their worship of their gods." Khivas sat up straight again, "To the south, things are relatively calm, but there is no telling when the goblin tribes will decide to organise themselves again. It was a long time since we last scattered them." Khivas held his tea cup at his eye level, inspecting the fine gloss and paintwork on its side as he spoke. "The biggest threat that we know, however, is from the humans of Ordov. We took in their refugees, when they had their... revolution, and as long as they have tried to stabilize, the Azu have proved a deterrent, but things are beginning to right themselves in that land. We cannot rely on the Azu savages to be a buffer forever, at the same time we cannot rely on our own soldiers, as we are vastly outnumbered and know little enough of the Ordov army's weaknesses."

Posknat was not one to keep up diligently with surrounding politics, but he wasn't aware of much of Khivas' information. To think that the Uraka army could be outmatched was a chilling thought.

Khivas paused to sip his tea, and Winleo continued for him. "Posknat, we are surrounded on all sides, and we cannot guarantee the safety of our homeland as it has been before. That is why we need you to fulfil a further duty with this expedition. Beyond maps and rutters and botany and whatever scholarly pursuits you take." Winleo's tone was serious again, putting a doubt in Posknat's mind as to whether the agreement to a casual atmosphere was still to hold. "There are many kingdoms in this world, Posknat, you must seek them out. Represent the Uraka Federation and open up new relationships. At the very least, upon finding these kingdoms, you must learn from them. Observe their ideas, their way of life. Note their technology, and the way they use their resources. If you can, open up the prospects of trade. If you can, find allies."

"Posknat. Along with Winleo's words, you must keep an open mind on what you expect to find." Khivas' look of pleasure from earlier in the conversation was a distant memory now, "whether there are other khari kingdoms, or whether they are all human, or if there are beings we have not encountered before, do not alienate them, or you will alienate us all. For instance, we have traded with the human kingdom of Aylsfyn, the islander people of the south, but never has a khari set foot on their land. They are different to the Ordov. If you find them, treat them as such. Winleo and I both believe that you are the one brave and ambitious enough to do this on your journey."

Pausing to consider, Posknat looked into his tea. His journey had of course been about discovery first and foremost, but now he felt an unwelcome weight of responsibility on his shoulders. He guessed that he only had himself to blame for asking the help of the honoured spirits. Still, this held a higher purpose than his original ambition, and he couldn't help but feel humbled that he would be the one chosen to carry it out. In any case, he had wanted to find Aylsfyn, now he would probably need to meet their leader as well. That could be as predictable an encounter as the weather.

"Will you do this, Posknat? For the good of the federation?" Winleo looked at him sideways.

Posknat looked up at them both, "it would be an honour."

"Good. Do not fail us, Posknat." Khivas added, "You will be our eyes and our herald to the world."
The pleasant surprise of a kiss caused Fendros to keep still for a moment after Ahnasha went to catch up with everyone. So do I. A smile formed on his face and he ran to catch up with them all before he was going to be shouted along.

In the settlement of Vos itself, Fendros felt every single eye they passed inspecting them all. It made him wonder why they bothered trying not to attract attention in the first place. As planned, Fendros' first destination was the tavern, which thankfully was not difficult to find. Along the way he kept his eyes peeled for beggars. Back in Cheydinhal, you couldn't do anything in public without old Lute-Throat or Smelly Harry finding out. As the principle paupers of the town, they lived comparatively comfortably on the street as long as there were residents who wanted to know gossip. Here, though, he only spotted one thus far. A figure in tattered clothing slept at the base of a general store, sheltering under its wide eaves. He looked like a Dunmer. Fendros kept a mental note to find this man later.

The tavern Fendros found was compact, like some of the old houses, but multi storied, and extended. It looked almost as if it had used to be someone's house until renovated into an inn. A sign hung above the door with a finely painted little humanoid creature curled up in a pile of hay with its eyes closed and a grin on its face. Words on the sign read the Sleepy Scamp. When Fendros tried to open it, the door was unlocked. Good, we're not here too early, it seems.

"Greetings, strangers." A tired and decidedly unenthusiastic voice sounded from behind the bar. It was spoken by a Dark Elf woman with grey hair and plain clothing, she had bags under her eyes and didn't look up from her large book. Presumably, the book was a ledger or something. Fendros entered and looked to the corners of the room, it seemed like the place was completely empty this morning. "Ah, greetings," Fendros said, placing his hands on the top of the bar near the woman, "I was just wondering if, perhaps, my companions and I might be able to reserve rooms tonight? We've traveled much of the night, and are staying here for a time."

The barkeep looked up at Fendros, then leaned to one side to have a look at the pack. "Apologies, young master, but the only room I have available currently is the stable," her voice seemed slightly venomous, "I presume these are your... companions?"

Fendros, trying not to take to heart her disrespectful tone, responded. "Correct! Though, business partners might be more appropriate. We're in the hide and leather trade, you see. Imperial fashion tends to undulate in various directions, and this time the creatures of this area wear the skin of what is in, if you will."

The woman chuckled and put down her quill, "that would explain the Imperial s'wit accent and the dregs you dragged in with you. Look, I don't sell hides here, much less to the kind of people you're with. What do you want?"

"We won't bother you much longer," Fendros said, feeling his already thin welcome evaporating, "I would just like to know if there are any hunters in the area who might have anything for sale."

"Looks like timing is not on your side. I had two groups of hunters over the past week. One checked out two days ago, another this morning." The woman raised her brow, "now is that all the business you had, or do I need to throw you to the general store where they actually sell hides?"

Fendros put up both of his hands, "that will be all, thank you. You have been most helpful."

The woman let out a disbelieving pfft as they all walked out of the door. Once out of earshot of the barkeep, Fendros furrowed his brow. "What a horrid woman," he commented, "well, now we can either find that vagrant we saw on the way in or try the general store, I think. Where first?"
Right, back from work, sorry again, I had to rush out.

The good news is that I'll be around pretty much all day tomorrow :D
With Meesei's briefing, everyone seemed to be ready. Fendros wore his sword, shield and purse, but decided to keep his chitin armour at camp in favour of the civilian clothing that had kept while they were traveling; flaxen breeches, green and brown shirt, leather loafers and a woolen scarf. These clothes would be less of a threat than his armour, especially important if he was going to be doing much of the talking, and he wouldn't be running the risk of anyone recognising the armour if the smugglers had passed through the area recently. The rules of engagement would likely be the same as when they went into other cities, with the camp being the rally point if they needed to disperse in times of trouble. The last thing that Fendros wanted was to be split up from the group. In a treacherous time and place like this, he had it in his head that to be caught alone could mean death by opportunistic packs, or worse. As long as they stuck together, there shouldn't be too much to worry about.

Their first stop, Fendros decided, would be the tavern. They would do well in the part of travelers if this was their first destination, and such a subject as travel could be an opening with the barkeep.

After they rose and started towards Vos, Fendros took Ahnasha aside for a moment and held both of her hands in his. There was one thing he needed to be clear about before being seen by anyone. Her smile was infectious as ever, but he made an effort to look serious. "Ahna, Meesei might have told you this as well and... this might seem strange, but... inside the town it would be dangerous for us to show affection," Fendros kept his voice soft and sincere, "my kind aren't very open with Khajiit and other beast races in general, you must understand."
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