Eowyna stood on the shoreline south of the city of Zento, the warm sea breeze whipping her skirts. It was too warm, certainly not the climate she was used to in the Deep Woods of Yew. Briefly the thought of a new wardrobe flitted through her mind, and she smiled at herself. Things were getting back to normal, tragedies receeding further into the past, if she could allow herself a moment to comtemplate something so frivilous as fashion.

She scanned the horizon for any sign of the ship, The Duchess. Even to elven eyes, there was nothing visible--not that she had expected there to be. THE Dread Pirate Bob was a canny old sailor and would know to lie at anchor just over the horizon until he received word that he was clear to sail into port. Eowyna released the pidgeon that would carry the message to Pirate Bob informing him that the trading concession granted the Elven Enclave in Zento had been extended to allow port priviledges in the Tokuno Islands. Zento's port was not very well-developed, but it was remote enough to meet their needs. The Duchess was clear to sail into the harbor and unload her cargo.

The Imperial Trade Minister, Iharo Soko, had not been too hard to convince. It had taken only a few minutes to persuade him to extend the trading concession of the Enclave to include port priviledges. Like most humans, the minister had his weaknesses, and Eowyna had made it her business to know all about them. Antiquities--Iharo Soko had a passion for them. She'd accompanied her request for extension of priviledges with the gift of an ancient urn containing the ashes of a long-dead samurai warrior. The minister's eyes had carressed the antique urn just as though it were his favorite concubine. And it was only a matter of minutes before the necessary paperwork had been delivered into Eowyna's hands. She smiled to herself, "humans, so corrupt". And with that, she made her way to the landing area south of the city and notified Pirate Bob to bring their cargo ashore.

On the deck of the Duchess, Pirate Bob scanned the horizon with a spy glass in one hand and a bottle of ale in the other. Ryglin and Fritz continued to transfer the cargo from the Edan Protector Dragon ship to the cargo hold of the Duchess. Fine Zento silk bolts, perfumes and oils, gold bars, and cases of Fey Leggings lined the cargo hold of the Edan Protector Ship. Pirate Bob grins “Matey, kick the Cases of Fey Leggings to the ocean blue, no self respecting Gondolin or sea faring sailor would wear such a trinket. Only the Ettelen Eldalie Taren would covet a trinket as that.” Fritz and Ryglin begin to toss the crates of trinkets to the sea. Fritz sighs “Hope fully Deep Sashelas doesn’t spit them back at us…” Dante open’s a metal trunk revealing various female clothes and under garmets. “No doubt that these are meant for Taren’s concubine wife.” Dante hold up a garment made of leather straps and buckles “One can only imagine what unholy acts those two perform on one and another” The crew’s laughter feels the air.

The Edan survivers were placed in a row boat and set a drift. Pirate Bob chuckles “Mateys, consider your selves fortunate not to walk the plank, but remember you are Edan and not Sha'Quessir!” The Edan survivers began rowing towards shore. Fritz and Ryglin begin to cut the lines that held the Edan Protector Ship to the Duchess. With the lines cut, Fritz and Ryglin begin to scuttle the ship. Pirate Bob booms “Remember to get back to the Duchess; I would not want you two to go down with that Edan ship.” Before Pirate Bob could finish his sentence, both Fritz and Ryglin jumped the distance between the ships and returned to the Duchess.

Pirate Bob, Fritz, and Ryglin scanned the horizon, searching for a signal from Lady Eowyna. Dante meticulously inventoried the cargo and insured the antiquities were properly secured and hidden from any prying eyes. Once satisfied that everything was accounted for, Dante began to fabricate the necessary documentation for the additional cargo that had been recently acquired and removing any identification markings. Dante knew the importance of getting this cargo to Zento Enclave and making every effort to ensure its delivery. Dante reflected back to the Fall of the Temple Seldarine, and the Fall of Gondolin. Dante’s eyes flowing with tears, returned to his task.

Ryglin yells and points “Pirate Bob, aye due starboard a messenger pigeon.” Pirate Bob holding up an empty bottle of ale and scanning the horizon as if it was a spyglass confirms “Tis a messenger pigeon, and an ugly one at that.” Holding out his arm, the messenger pigeon lands on Pirate Bob’s arm and the old salty sailor carefully removes the message. Pirate Bob smiles “Strike down the Skull and Crossbones and fly the Zento Enclave Colors and raise the anchor boys, we are going home.”

THE Dread Pirate Bob sat at a table in the Nesting Crane Tavern, taking in his surroundings. This place didn’t suit him at all—he missed carousing sailors, dark corners, exaggerated tales of murder and mayhem on the high seas, barmaids who’d fall for a bauble or trinket, and the smell of stale grog. He growled a greeting to Amar, his parrot—the only thing about this pub he could tolerate. He couldn’t understand why those uppity elf-folk had decided to settle here. Not only was this place too pristine for his likes, why, there wasn’t even a decent public pub in the whole town of Zento! Well, the money was good, so he supposed he’d put up with it when he had to, but he’d be damned if he’d waste his free time kicking around this “pretty” town. Just downright dull in his opinion! Well, at least there were plenty of rats.

No, thought Bob, if that Elf-woman, Eowyna, couldn’t run a decent establishment, he’d just take the Duchess and sail her on down to Trinsic, Felucca, and drink away his free time there! The Keg and Anchor was more to his liking! That, and all the back alleys of the large seaport of Trinsic—lots of good times to be had there. He picked up his bottle of contraband ale (at least this stuff was good), and staggered to the window. Cherry trees and delicate architecture, she said, so pretty. Pretty, scoffed Bob, what he needed was a few good drinking companions, a game of dice (the more knives, the better), and a winsome wench or two.

Besides that, this past voyage had been a disaster from his standpoint. Sailing orders from the elf-woman again! Deliver the scrolls and pick up a cargo of books of arcane Elven knowledge! Books, what kind of cargo was that??!!?? Better Fey Leggings than books! Next time he’d deal with the Bandit King himself, and none other!!! Maddux could usually give him a tip or two concerning the sailing schedules of edan merchant ships—that information delivered with a knowing smile and a bag of gold coins. Booty to be had, with a nice cut for himself! Not only were there no profitable and pleasurable acts of piracy, pillage and plunder on this trip, but it had been full of delays and official, legal procedures, AND he’d had to put up with that Valor Frost fellow—a stickler for proper protocol and fully-documented paperwork! First the delay in sailing from Moonglow—something about the weather and risk to the books. Bildgewater! Bob could sail any seas! Then another delay when they’d been stopped by a harbor vessel of the Zento Imperial fleet to have their port authority documents checked. Valor had insisted that no one be beheaded—imagine! Proper procedure, proper procedure, Valor had said—sounding a lot like Amar the parrot. Delays, delays, and no profit!

Bob, his head swimming, wandered to the bar, cracked open another bottle, and attempted to drown his miseries. No, the Bandit King was going soft—letting the woman handle his business. Maybe he’d contact the Warlord, Izual next time. Yes, that’s what he’d do! Now there was an elf who knew how to handle himself, and wouldn’t cringe at the thought of rolling a few heads!

“Pillage and Plunder!!” squawked Amar from his perch, and Bob raised his bottle in salute to the bird.

“Righto, Mate!” Hmmm….at least they had nice silver here. Bob eyed the table utensils, and raked a few into his pockets before his head hit the bar with a resounding crack.