Whispers can span oceans when the information is ripe, and rumours of the Itinerant Bazaar are the lushest gossip to the crafters of Achaea.

Winter weather goes a long way to making the outer Eusian ocean an unforgiving crossing. Luck and a great deal of coin had secured Inakesi passage across the sullen dark waters, the wild white horses of the deep pitching fits and the wooden vessel with each gust of wind.

It was these tantilising hints, the fallen stars of the supernal aurora, and a rickety rowboat that saw Inakesi, the stellar artificer to land one cold Sarapin morning in 665 AF on the beach of Tasur'ke. She soon made haste for that beacon of warmth, the Brass Lantern Inn.

The window of relative calm, or slightly less than gale force winds, would only last until Aeguary. Inakesi had been well warned that the spring swells and triton forces were just as dangerous as any Glacian storm, so she'd best be on her way home before the thaw began.

Only the lure of the fallen stars could have drawn her to make the trip in such perilous conditions.


Penned by My hand on the 19th of Sarapin, in the year 665 AF.