After getting down to my last few coins in ale money, I was ejected from the tavern for trying to pay my drinks bill with an Amulet of Testimony. Forgetting I even had such a trinket, it came back to me that I was supposed to go to Harvest and hire a boat. Since I was out of the tavern and it looked like rain, I decided to travel on.
Harvest is a lovely town and I admire their fashion sense when it comes to the color yellow. I strolled down the boulevards admiring all the sunflowers, banners and other adornments that gives Harvest an easygoing feeling. I steered clear of the creepy child encampment where the little nippers set fires and throw rocks due to the lack of adult supervision.
My goal was to find a ferryman to take me across the big waters, so thinking logically, I headed for the docks. Alas, he was not there. Next, I tried the tavern as all seafaring men ultimately need an ale to slake the thirst of a long days toil. Alas, he was not there either.
I then looked in the market, the reagent shop, the armory and tried to pull information out of the town crier. All proved fruitless.
Fruit would have been a good choice, but alas, I spent the entire day looking for this miscreant and didn’t buy supplies before the market closed. I tried to buy ale with my dashing good looks, hopes, promises and dreams, but returned to the curb with nothing for my trouble but some lettuce and I’m quite sure it was meant as a taunt, not a gesture of kindness. If they continued their jibes with some tomato and a dash of bacon, all would have been well.
And thus I sat, contemplating my next move and waiting for the sun to rise. If he was a Ferryman of any respect, I would stand guard by his boat and nab him when he came to check for fares.
He threw me off the scent by coming out early to fish. It was mere coincidence that I asked if he knew of any ferryman in the vicinity and he mentioned he was in a position to ferry me to my destination. He was even in admiration of my yellow cloak and said he was ready to journey on when I was.
But we had a breakdown in our communication. Through multiple prompts, gestures and even hand signals, I tried to convey I was ready for the journey and the sooner we set off the better. I had my sailing leggings, the yellow cloak and the amulet. I even had some spare lettuce I was willing to share. We could feed the ducks, it would be glorious!
Yet, no matter how many times he said he was waiting around for me, he wouldn’t relinquish the rod and reel, hop into his rickety boat and cast off.
Defeated, dejected and disillusioned, I assailed the Ferryman with lettuce, tossed him into the sea, thrashed him with his fishing rod and liberated his row boat.
I felt somewhat guilty over leading him on a low speed pursuit over the waves wherein he nearly downed before turning back. But the quest must go on!
More brilliant musings about my adventures in New Britannia
- Traveling on the Path of Courage
- Drowning the Ferryman may have been to my disadvantage
- Because I could not stop for Death
- The Sewers of Owl’s Head in Shroud of the Avatar Release 11
- Setting up for our first vintage
- Beg your pardon, can I borrow a cup of sugar? And maybe a pinch of salt? Perhaps a bit of flour? Got milk? Cooking in Shroud of the Avatar Release 13
- What’s Happening in the Shroud of Avatar Release 6 Weekend?
- The Crypt of the Avatar in the Midras Ruins
- Alley Oop takes me on a guided tour of New Britannia – Hidden chests, Haunted Chapels and let’s not forget the helm
- The graceful art of dyeing