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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Bobitron" data-source="post: 2039350" data-attributes="member: 25479">With the morning sun peeking over the rolling hills of San Francisco, you arise from the last warm, comfortable bed you are likely to see for awhile. Making even with the innkeeper and stables, you gather your belongings and mounts. The air still carries the chill of the night, and your breath and that of your mounts showing faint clouds of steam. The stevedores and merchants are getting to work on the docks, and the hum of industry soon fills the air. As you approach the Hadfield stables, you spot Marshal Colburn leaning up against the rail, drinking a steaming cup of coffee. He smiles as you approach, tossing the remainder of his drink out on the street and slipping the tin cup into a saddlebag. “That Hadfield is a stand-up man, but his coffee is harder than most whiskey.” He spits out the taste with a scowl before continuing.“Good mornin’, gents. I hope you’ve got all you need for a rough journey. Deepwood lies over 300 miles north of here, and deep in some inhospitable terrain. Time is of the essence here, so I’m plannin’ on getting us there by ridin’ straight through. We will take roads where practical, but Deepwood itself has only a network of trails connecting it to civilization. We’re going to have to cut cross-county at a few points to save time. We will avoid cities unless absolutely needed. I hope to cover about forty or fifty miles a day until we hit the hills outside the Sierra Nevadas. Until then, we’ll stay on the western side of ‘em, following with the mountains to our right shoulder. Any questions?"Mounting his horse, he settles in the saddle, turning towards the Bay.“I talked to a ferry captain last night, and he waits for us now. Unless there’s anything holdin’ us up, let’s get a move on.”</blockquote>

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