“Land Ho!” the joyous cry resounded through the storm-ragged galleon. The Rider’s beaten wooden floor clacked with the overwhelmed crew members jubilant stomping. The storm-ragged ship pulled in to the bustling port, anchoring themselves to what seemed to be the only open patch of water. The happy sailors burst on to the dirty ground, many kissing it as they passed. The crew almost managed to get loose into the crowds of people before the captain rounded them up.
“Right, then. MEN!!” He yelled to the now despairing sailors who wanted nothing more than to find the nearest pub and relax. “Stand in front of the ship. I don’t want us bein’ kicked off this hustlin’ and bustlin’ land just b’cause we weren’t checked in b’forehand”.
The portly captain disappeared into what seemed to be the hub of all the attention, probably the port. The crew waited and waited. Suddenly, the crew's mage ,Nol (who had been working for the past few days attending to the crews wounded, causing him to be very slow), heard a small clatter of feet, so he halfheartedly looked to the side. A stocky man around 50 years of age was standing right next to him. Without even the slightest movement of his mouth, Nol heard the man mutter.
“Ah, good. You are here. Now come. Much help is needed.”

Lanir was exultant. They had finally beached, and with the fear of the ship never making it behind them, the crew felt invincible. There was much celebration now, and Lanir barely heard the captain bark out the orders. The crew stopped as the captain spoke, and watched as he moved into the port-house. When he was out of site the men resumed talking, though none moved towards the city.
None, that is, except for Nol. Lanir noticed the short man move up to Nol, and then the two of them leave. Lanir had not been surprised. Nol was not your average sailor. He did not have the camaraderie with others of the crew most seamen possessed.
So Lanir let them move off, and returned to his celebration with the other crew members. This day marked the end of a long journey, but little did he know this day also signified the beginning of an even longer one.

After he said goodbye to Captain Looie, the man from Morring stood on the docks, trying to take in all the sights and smells of the port at once. He glanced again at the passport of the elf lost at sea, making sure he would remember his new name. Now he was Roland Moonstar; now he had a new name, a new life, a new identity.

He let out a happy sigh of contentment. There was little he enjoyed more than a new beginning. Of course at some point he would have to leave the dock and begin his new life, but for the moment he was just basking in the contentment that came with having a day off. No worries, no cares, and no responsibilities. Just a random man from out of town.

While he stood there, the man now called Roland noticed the new ship pull in. He watched as the gangplank came down, as the deckapes manuevered around the pylons, as the first mate handed out grog and booty. He knew he was not alone in watching this: many eager doxies and wenches would soon be hoping to separated these sailors from their money.

He listened quietly as the Captain made his impassioned speech, chuckling because he had heard the same tirade from Captain Looie and many men before him. It was always the same, and it always fell on deaf ears. Or rather, it fell on sober ears. At three this morning, pretty much like clockwork, some or all of the following would happen: two sailors would have a barfight. One would be cheated by a mullet. One would run out a window while a husband came in the front door. Some others would waste the night drinking and playing darts. And one would go missing, either chasing after a girl, impressed into some other crew, or having run afoul of a loanshark or bookie.

He took a drink from his hip flask and silently toasted the sailors, wishing them luck. They would need it. That one in the middle posing like a popinjay would be in trouble before the day was through, no doubt about it.

The words of the short, portly man startled him. It was a rather ominous talk, a mention of help being needed. His first instinct was to jump in and offer aid himself, but the problem was that he knew nothing of this land and of the people in it. The ship's mage could be a hero or a villain: the help requested could be for a bank robbery as much as to save a ransom victim. There was just no way of knowing until the short man continued speaking. He did not want to eavesdrop, but he was a natural meddler. He stood around the docks, listening and watching to see what would happen next.

Lanir couldn't explain it. His eyes were slowly drawn up to the high docks, where the man stood. The man was an imposing image. While not overly muscular the man radiated a sense of power Lanir could hardly explain. His gaze flickered towards Nol as the mage walked away. Then he looked back at the man on the docks.

The man was just standing there, watching the sailors. Lanir raised an eyebrow and eyed him suspiciously. Lanir was shaken out of his observations as the captain stepped out of the dock house. Lanir looked up to him and the captain's face split into a wide grin.

"Go on, mates, I've everything settled over here," said the captain, and at this all the sailors swarmed up onto the docks, and into the various pubs and inns. Lanir moved with them, eager to spend his hard earned coin on women and ale. Then he remembered the man. He turned around and looked at the man. He was still watching Nol. Lanir moved over to him, his hand on his scimitar.

He extended his other hand and said one word. "Hello."

Roland was apparently unarmed, or at least his hands were empty. Any weapons he had were tucked and sheathed away, and he simply stood there, with his hands on his hips. He wore no armor of any sort.

He appeared to pay the scimitar no mind at all. He did however notice Lanir and gave a courtly flourish. "Roland Moonstar of Morring."

He smiled at Lanir. "Hello. A sailor yourself, eh? I just docked myself, and am getting my land legs again. If you know where Morring is, you know how far a journey I've come. And with a rather colorful cast of characters, I might add. " He chuckled then, thinking of his adventures on the high seas.

Roland pointed in the vague direction of the mage and his squat companion. "It seems like you have quite the crew as well. Any odd or interesting things happen to you lot while you were at sea? We were attacked by pirates about a fortknight out, but Captain Looie and his crew bravely held them off."