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[LPF] Blessed Are the Cheesemakers
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<blockquote data-quote="Systole" data-source="post: 6480735" data-attributes="member: 93930"><p>The last to arrive is Ru Brike, a lanky Rhat'mani dressed in leathers, and who looks only mildly uncomfortable on his horse.</p><p></p><p>The ride out of Venza is easy, and the weather is gentle. Along this thoroughfare, there is plenty of traffic both into and out of the great city. Over the course of a few hours, you overtake a few trade caravans, which are drawn by plodding dray horses and laden with goods from overseas. And more than once, you yourselves are overtaken by couriers who are no doubt carrying messages of great urgency to and from persons of great importance.</p><p></p><p>A few hours out of Venza, you turn south onto Sending Way, where the traffic lessens considerably. The caravans are smaller and less elaborate, and the couriers disappear altogether. In the heart of Venza's farmlands, apparently there is far less urgency and far fewer persons of importance. When the sun draws toward the horizon, you find one of the many roadside inns, and spend the night on linens that are rough but clean, and eat food that is simple but hearty. You set out early, and within a matter of hours you are at the Chester Cross depot.</p><p></p><p>The depot is small, low wooden structure next to a natural spring whose waters run clear and cold. It has been constructed so that the stream runs through the building itself -- presumably to keep the contents of the building cool. A wagon is parked next to the depot, and the pair of bridled horses graze the sweet green grass by the roadside. A crooked stencil on the side of the wagon reads:</p><p></p><p style="text-align: center"><span style="color: #FFA07A"><strong>NORTH SENDING FOOD'S & DILEVERRIE'S</strong></span></p> <p style="text-align: center"><span style="color: #FFA07A"><strong>Ernest Daggit, Owner</strong></span></p> <p style="text-align: center"><span style="color: #FFA07A"><strong><em>Lisinsed Teamster</em></strong></span></p> <p style="text-align: center"></p><p></p><p>The door of the depot is open and unlocked, and as you ride up, a man in homespun clothes and a woolen cap comes out of the door, blinking in the sun. He gives you a short wave of acknowledgement, then turns and begins locking the depot back up.</p><p></p><p></p><p><img src="http://i1257.photobucket.com/albums/ii513/pnthffr/wagonner_150.jpg" alt="" class="fr-fic fr-dii fr-draggable " style="" /></p><p></p><p><strong><span style="color: #FFA07A">. . . Ernest Daggit . . .</span></strong></p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Systole, post: 6480735, member: 93930"] The last to arrive is Ru Brike, a lanky Rhat'mani dressed in leathers, and who looks only mildly uncomfortable on his horse. The ride out of Venza is easy, and the weather is gentle. Along this thoroughfare, there is plenty of traffic both into and out of the great city. Over the course of a few hours, you overtake a few trade caravans, which are drawn by plodding dray horses and laden with goods from overseas. And more than once, you yourselves are overtaken by couriers who are no doubt carrying messages of great urgency to and from persons of great importance. A few hours out of Venza, you turn south onto Sending Way, where the traffic lessens considerably. The caravans are smaller and less elaborate, and the couriers disappear altogether. In the heart of Venza's farmlands, apparently there is far less urgency and far fewer persons of importance. When the sun draws toward the horizon, you find one of the many roadside inns, and spend the night on linens that are rough but clean, and eat food that is simple but hearty. You set out early, and within a matter of hours you are at the Chester Cross depot. The depot is small, low wooden structure next to a natural spring whose waters run clear and cold. It has been constructed so that the stream runs through the building itself -- presumably to keep the contents of the building cool. A wagon is parked next to the depot, and the pair of bridled horses graze the sweet green grass by the roadside. A crooked stencil on the side of the wagon reads: [CENTER][COLOR=#FFA07A][B]NORTH SENDING FOOD'S & DILEVERRIE'S Ernest Daggit, Owner [I]Lisinsed Teamster[/I][/B][/COLOR] [/CENTER] The door of the depot is open and unlocked, and as you ride up, a man in homespun clothes and a woolen cap comes out of the door, blinking in the sun. He gives you a short wave of acknowledgement, then turns and begins locking the depot back up. [IMG]http://i1257.photobucket.com/albums/ii513/pnthffr/wagonner_150.jpg[/IMG] [B][COLOR=#FFA07A]. . . Ernest Daggit . . .[/COLOR][/B] [/QUOTE]
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