<em><strong>Wir the 19th of Dravago, 998 YK</strong></em><br/><br/>It was late in spring on the westernmost border of Breland, and the rainy season was finally letting up a bit, the bright sun occasionally peeking through clouds still heavy with rain.  In the small border settlement of Aubrean, life began to stir anew, with folks venturing out into the damp air, ready to clean up messes and prepare for the coming raids.  Here, even though Aubrean sat within the borders of one of the mightiest kingdoms left after the Last War, the monsters of the bordering Kingdom of Droaam still broke the uneasy ceasefire to raid the small settlements along the Graywall Mountains, especially after the rains stopped.<br/><br/>Aubrean had but a single in, The Gargling Goblin, named, no doubt, for Myssk, the hobgoblin proprietor who fancied himself a songbird, when in his cups.  It was in this inn that Fiona found herself, waiting for the rain to clear so that the caravan she was travelling with could once again take to the road.  As she sat and waited for the rain to stop and the bartender to serve her, she noticed an attractive half-elven male eying her lustfully.  He was dressed in the loose silks and leather vest of a House Lyrander airship crew member, and when he saw her look his way, he stood taller, winking in her direction.<br/><br/>