Ronald
**Marmot's Cradle - The Rustlands**

The town didn't seem to present much threat at first glance.
Built halfway over a small canyon carved by the river on a colossal rock, the town sprawled like a fungal parasite on an ingrown toenail.
It's people were ragged and dirty but vigorous. They strolled along the river carrying lumber, pelts, and iron tools made from the settlements many forges.
Several armed guards could be seen posted nearby, but their focus was on helping the merchants keep an eye over their caged slaves.

Of all the people walking around the miserable dock of the village, only a black haired man had the luxury of doing it in horseback, thus sparing his boots from the rusty clay of the muddy soil.
Like the garrison commander of the grey hills, he wore knight armor. Unlike him however, said armor was limited to a chestplate, vambrances, and greaves. Most of his protection came in the form of chainmail and thick furs, of which a lage cape was the most prominent.

"Halt!" He said to the newcomers. "You must dock starboard! The passage is narrow, and we need to account for transit."

Indeed. The Berserksgangr's longship was the largest ship behind the palissade, it's bulk alone eclipsed the pauper canoes and sailships of the town's inhabitants.
John
**Cornelius - The Sun Gate**

The man read through the names on the parchment a few times and burned them into the back of his skull. After standing once more, his hand brought the paper over a candle flame. It burned away in his hand until he let it drop to the floor below, leaving little more than a few ashes behind. He would not be discovered with his own death warrant in pocket. That would be very embarrassing.

"It's a personal policy of mine to minimize the risk of by head and neck being separated at a given point in time. Is there a place and/or persons I could use to gather some information before these three and I come into contact?"

There was a brief pause and a breath before he opened his mouth. He stopped himself before his vocal cords vibrated, and after which, his mouth shut again.
Vincent
Dagstygg Jarl, Marmots cradle.

Looking around at the modest sized settlement around him, he saw opportunity. He had goods in tow, and whatever could be sold to lighten his load would be best done soon. Being one of the few that spoke the common tongue of Northwind, he took the role of emissary and approached the guard, slinging his axe back into its sheath on his back. 

"Hail, Guardsman! I will have our ships moved as you please. Do not let our appearance unsettle you, we come to do trade in furs and jewelery." 

He turned around and muttered to his fleetmaster, to which they would nod and begin shouting to the men aboard the ships, they take out their oars and begin maneuvering the ships into place, opening the way for transit.