Post by DM-Delfon on Oct 30, 2020 6:42:58 GMT -5
As the cart lurches into motion Smith leans into it to provide what little help he can. Smith is not a very strong man, but he makes up for it with cunning, faith and personality. His chest aches as he shoves the wagon along. The Pelorian magic healed the wound, but the body remembers for a time. “Sounds. Good. To. Me.” Smith struggles out, “Wound. Still. Hurts.” He manages between breaths. About half way to the river Smith stops helping push the wagon, and simply walks behind it with his hands on the back. Without the extra effort, his breathing calms. “Depending on what you want to do after this, we might want to keep the cart.”
The road is mostly flat with a very slight decline toward the river. Looking down the cross streets everything seems very industrialized here. Most of the buildings are compounds with high walls, and even the houses enclose themselves behind fences and walls. The smaller side streets show the poverty of this side of the river much more. Conditions here are rough, but not quite slums. The people are stylishly dressed, though the pieces they wear don’t necessarily match each other. Much of the clothes here have been mended repeatedly, but care has been shown to hide the work when possible.
The road ends at a collection of ferry docks, dozens of small rectangular rafts tethered by thick ropes that span the river dot the shore. A cacophony of voices ring out selling this and that, while others try to get you to use their ferry. Many claim to be the fastest, or the most stable ride. The area is laid out so passenger ferries and cargo ferries are on separate docks.
Smith directs you toward a large Half-Orc. A brief exchange of words and coin follows, before Smith smiles back at you, “My friend here will take the cart across the river for us, we ride on that ferry there.” Smith gestures, and you both board a simple float. The process is simple too, the ferrymen walk to the front of the ferry, grab the rope and then walk back. They stay in place because of the rope, but the boat itself moves across the river. When they reach the other side of the boat they circle back and start again. The river is wide, but the current isn’t overly strong so the ride is pretty calm overall. The cargo ferries work in a similar fashion, but they have two ropes, and a central area between them is big enough for four wagons.
Looking back you can see the warehouses, the belching smoke or smiths and tanners, and the houses of the least well off in the city sprawled out in neat rows. Looking ahead you can see that as soon as you cross the river the houses are two or more stories and most have a small yard or garden. The people are dressed in similar high fashion, but the quality of the garments are much improved, less threadbare and patched or mended.
Once the ferry lands, you wait for your cargo to arrive by the dock. Impatient merchants watch the progress of the sun, while labourers rest up for the work to come. These docks are very busy, with people, carts like yours and wagons coming and going constantly. It’s all organized and kept flowing smoothly by the Pins. Clifton’s town guards, so called because of the long cudgels they carry opposite their long swords. While you wait, Smith goes off to find a porter, returning shortly with a Halfling man riding a bareback mule. Although the mule doesn’t have a saddle, it is wearing a harness. “Now we can walk without hauling the cart.”
While you walk, Smith talks idly about the city filling you in on the basics of life here. He warns that trouble has been brewing lately at night. Thugs are getting brazen and assaulting people. Theft is on the rise too. Half way up the hill Smith asks, “So what do you want to accomplish here? You’ve got a guide of sorts, and you already know the basics. What’s your goal?”
The road is mostly flat with a very slight decline toward the river. Looking down the cross streets everything seems very industrialized here. Most of the buildings are compounds with high walls, and even the houses enclose themselves behind fences and walls. The smaller side streets show the poverty of this side of the river much more. Conditions here are rough, but not quite slums. The people are stylishly dressed, though the pieces they wear don’t necessarily match each other. Much of the clothes here have been mended repeatedly, but care has been shown to hide the work when possible.
The road ends at a collection of ferry docks, dozens of small rectangular rafts tethered by thick ropes that span the river dot the shore. A cacophony of voices ring out selling this and that, while others try to get you to use their ferry. Many claim to be the fastest, or the most stable ride. The area is laid out so passenger ferries and cargo ferries are on separate docks.
Smith directs you toward a large Half-Orc. A brief exchange of words and coin follows, before Smith smiles back at you, “My friend here will take the cart across the river for us, we ride on that ferry there.” Smith gestures, and you both board a simple float. The process is simple too, the ferrymen walk to the front of the ferry, grab the rope and then walk back. They stay in place because of the rope, but the boat itself moves across the river. When they reach the other side of the boat they circle back and start again. The river is wide, but the current isn’t overly strong so the ride is pretty calm overall. The cargo ferries work in a similar fashion, but they have two ropes, and a central area between them is big enough for four wagons.
Looking back you can see the warehouses, the belching smoke or smiths and tanners, and the houses of the least well off in the city sprawled out in neat rows. Looking ahead you can see that as soon as you cross the river the houses are two or more stories and most have a small yard or garden. The people are dressed in similar high fashion, but the quality of the garments are much improved, less threadbare and patched or mended.
Once the ferry lands, you wait for your cargo to arrive by the dock. Impatient merchants watch the progress of the sun, while labourers rest up for the work to come. These docks are very busy, with people, carts like yours and wagons coming and going constantly. It’s all organized and kept flowing smoothly by the Pins. Clifton’s town guards, so called because of the long cudgels they carry opposite their long swords. While you wait, Smith goes off to find a porter, returning shortly with a Halfling man riding a bareback mule. Although the mule doesn’t have a saddle, it is wearing a harness. “Now we can walk without hauling the cart.”
While you walk, Smith talks idly about the city filling you in on the basics of life here. He warns that trouble has been brewing lately at night. Thugs are getting brazen and assaulting people. Theft is on the rise too. Half way up the hill Smith asks, “So what do you want to accomplish here? You’ve got a guide of sorts, and you already know the basics. What’s your goal?”