<em>Gemgilt looked up at the man who could be mistaken for any of the numerous sailors aboard this very skiff. It had been a fair question.</em><br/><br/>"Well, sir,"<em>he said</em>, "we're in the middle of the wilderlands. The viaduct hasn't been reclaimed by the Centrian's yet. Could be some mountain orcs, kobolds, mostly though there's probably some blasted wolves or giant spiders. Those eight-legged freaks like damp dark places. We need to clear a way through it and then it's smooth sailing."<br/><br/><em>The trader walked back toward the bow. He couldn't be picky, it had been commission-based help so he had to take what he got. He stroked his short beard in thought. This was a risky move to say the least.</em>