Far cry from home

[Roger Smith]

It was the affair of only a few short hours for the good captain's purposeful stride to carry him along the gently-rolling hills, through grass and around the occasional mud puddle or ditch and into the outskirts of the village. And right away, he strolled up in as amiable fashion as he could to the first person he saw. "Pardon me, there, good sir, might I trouble ye for a question or two?"

The man in question, a rather stout, burly-looking fellow who had been busily unloading wood from a cart, turned a weather eye on the newcomer, and with a quick up-and-down sliding of his eyes, seemed to have seen and learned all he needed to form an opinion that produced the purse-lipped scowl and crinkled ridge of eyebrows that his expression folded into. He straightened up, dusting dust and wood splinters from his hands as he did. "Don't reckon I've got any reason to say no, stranger...what's on your mind, then?"

"Well, like I said, mate, just a pair o' questions." Touching a hand to his chin, as if in thought, he tilted his head back slightly as if appraising the other man in turn, possibly just to unnerve him. "First-like...yeh wouldn't happen to know whereabouts the gate back to the Nexus is from these parts, now, would ya?"

The man removed his cap, scratching at a hairline that was rapidly receding from the front of his head, his scowl momentarily fading into a grimace of what was either a strong urge to use the restroom, or rarely-used memory being called up. "The Nexus gate....don't have much use for it, myself, but....think it's out west-a-ways, maybe a day or two's good solid march if you're in a hurry."

"Ah, well then, that's a good job...I feared I'd gone clear off course entirely. Not exactly in familiar waters out here, as it were." The good captain spread his lips in a smile, showing off the pointed teeth in his maw in a gesture probably not as charming as it might have been. "Thanks very much, mate...and as for that second question I mentioned..." He leaned in slightly closer, as if about to share something positively scandalous or conspiratory. "....where's a fellah to go if he's after a good drink?"

For a brief moment, the suspicious look faded from the stout man's expression, replaced with a twinkle in his eyes as he pointed a thumb down the street toward the main part of town. "Head right on down yonder ways, just a few minutes on into tow. Place called Rutherman's Tavern. Can't miss it, it's right on the main street."

Putting on a smile that was genuinely charming, the good captain placed a hand to his hat in a gesture of respect, inclining his head. "Thanks very much, mate. Don't let me keep yeh from your work any more'n I have, now." Turning smartly on one heel, Crow went off deeper into the town, a new spring in his step with the knowledge he was at least on course to get back to familiar ground.