NOTE: If you are not Arcerion, myself or Alleniana, don't post.
Unless you're the Empire of Pretantia. Then there's not much I can do to stop you from posting.
Oslo
POV Veronica Sage
What a slow place this harbor is. The winds blow almost lazily, filling the sails and turning the ship on which I stand ever so slowly towards doc, my boots heavy against the oaken deck. I should wonder as to why I have been instructed to wear full armor underneath my woolen cloak. Does Briety expect me to be attacked? Possibly even killed?
"Gangplank down!" One of the sailors shouts, and I'm quick to stride down the wooden board and onto relatively dry land, seeing as the sky is heavy with a band of clouds and the cobblestones are wet from rain that I assume to have fallen moments ago. Now, where is the party... ah yes, there. I take quite the roundabout rout, walking the circumference of the port before stalking up quietly behind the most senior member and waiting to be noticed.
