I met my would be party members upon the open seas, we met on the boat leading into the city, Bostish, the salty sea air had me in good spirits I introduced myself to a cleric, who I later learned was a follower of Haramathur. There was also a rogue, a shady looking individual who did not appear deserving of trust or would have much honor in a fight.
We landed in the port an affair which took longer than I might have imagined but at least we suffered no casualties so we considered the whole ordeal a success. Upon landing we embarked upon the dock heading into town, some ruffians (one considered himself a lord though he was filth as the rest of them) tried to stop us offering a fight, a diversion to keep us from noticing as they tried to prevent the rogue from entry. While the shady fellow meant little to me I knew he had been chosen to help us with the task at hand for a reason, so I told the men they had best let him pass. This caused the wretched curs to lose their amenable demeanor and attack us in broad daylight. The nerve of it all!
Worse still than all that was that one of the foul miscreants, the one who sucker-punched me, was ended by the rogue, the little fiend stole a target who I claimed by the light of Dol Arah and after whispering the prayers of his own god to each of the men we slew. It was an assault on my beliefs so vile I could not let it stand, a short exchange sorted the whole mess out, we’ve just met an archer who came to our aide and now we’re off thanks to some ‘extremely helpful’ guards. To meet Drummand in an inn.
Dwarves and their drinking. I will never understand.