After two days downstream and one more gossiping with an old fisherman the adventurer and his merry men thought they were close at last. But less than half day later they crossed something. Under something. A very civilized bridge. They looked at each other. How great had their miscalculation been?
The hours went by and showed more and more human footprints, normal human footprints. Which meant they had a few days of sin and vice before having to move again.
Civilization had a funny effect on all of them. Better not to hang around too long.
They walked in the Docks looking for a dive with goods vibes. They laughed so much looking at the pubsign (that was really a goat? well, three goats?) that they thought they had a winner.
Bloody goats.
Behind the bar was General Merridew. General Merridew!
"You're lucky, mate" said Old Merry "tomorrow Pem's coming."
What? Sorry, but what?? The latest news he had had of the pair placed them one and a half continents away. More or less. When there aren't yet any maps accuracy is a nonsense. And that big git of Old Merry was laughing under his ridiculous moustache. And, for heaven's sake, what was that? Those things in the poor attempt at masculinity his friend had under his nose?
"General, do you think I have grey hair?"
Maybe next time he should remember to put a mirror in his bag.
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