Arryn wasn’t surprised that Larzander couldn’t see him through the fog. He approached the warrior and placed a hand on his shoulder hoping not to scare the man ”Indeed.” he said as he reached his free hand out to the man on the docks ”This is your home then? We had set sail for Asterock; where have we found ourselves.” he asked Stoney.

The name of the thread does it refer to the docks or to the wine we are offered?

In reply to Arryn Andrer (msg # 11):

Passing the drink around, enjoying himself.
"It is always nice to have someone to share a drink."
Pointing up the pier, then moving his hand a slightly different direction.
"This is my home, the city of_______, sorry but you didn't make it to Asterock.  But there is a really nice inn, right this way, or this way."
Scratching his head.
"I actually don't know what part of the pier I am on.  Once we get out of this fog, and closer to the city, I will surely get my bearings."

OOC:  ASsuming Stoney started in the same city as the rest of the party....where Stoney currently thinks he is now, still in said city. 

Onyx joins the others on the Dock and tries to ignore the lost boy's rantings.  Readying himself in case of attack, The elf moves steadily up the dock looking for any signs of land, breaks in the fog, or others.

Attempting to continue along the dock proves to be a slightly difficult task.  As you set off, you soon realize that you can't use the lights for directional sense.  The dock seems to meander left and right at seemingly random points.  The going becomes extremely slow as several times you have either walked into another ship's gangplank or crates or almost clear off the docks themselves.  Gauging how long it might take or how far you are from the actual shore is completely open for debate.

OOC: Arryn, excellent and hysterical observation.  I hadn't even thought about that but it should be interesting to find out :D

Based on Stoney's post are we to believe he thinks we are back where we started?

OOC: Well, he is certainly convinced that he is still in his hometown. 

But it isn't the same place we left from?

OOC: Technically, you still have no idea where you actually are.  You could have luckily sailed back but since you sailed some distance from your starting port before the fog set in, it would probably be safe to assume you are not back where you started.

In reply to The Powers That Be (msg # 18):

Stopping for a quick moment.
"Funny, I don't remember the docks here at Boulders Ford being this hard to navigate.
It is rather foggy out, plus it was, er um, LATE when I wandered here. "

”There is no way this ship managed to turn around and return to where we started.” Arryn said when the man with the wine stopped ”I don’t think your memory is the problem. I think we’ve come ashore somewhere foreign to us.” he said before starting forward hoping to finally hit land and no longer be within the cursed mists.

After what feels like an eternity, a row of distant lights seems to signal the shoreline quickly approaching.  With a little more labyrinth maneuvering you finally reach the shore.  Gazing down to either side you can just barely make out the choppy surf as it gently batters the land.

While there are a few extra lanterns hung about to indicate the border, very little in the way of lighting greets your eyes.  The fog still seems to hang heavily but has thinned out enough to allow you a little more viewing area.  While you still can't see at your furthest (not surprising as it still appears to be evening) you are able to make out the fronts of several buildings.  Most appear to be abandoned or simply rundown boathouses but here and there a stray light peeks through one of the shuttered windows.  A few small 'roads' and alleyways twist off from your location but as to direction, it is anyone's guess.

The town almost seems lifeless as any normal sounds of life (talking, music, etc.) appear nonexistent. Only the rhythmic sloshing of the surf greets your ears.

In reply to Arryn Andrer (msg # 20):

"I don't like this." the large warrior stated as he looked around seeing essentially nothing. "Let's see if we can find an inn or something to wait out this fog. Everyone stay close, keep the man in front of you in sight. If someone calls out everyone stop, until we figure out what is going on." Larz added. "Agreed?" he asked his new companions.

In reply to Larzander Gunderzen (msg # 22):

" I agree.  this doesn't look familiar.
I am not sure where we are exactly."
Under his breath
_{" I didn't drink that much!"}

Onyx nodded instinctively but offered aloud, "Agreed.  We should not split up lest we become lost in the gray."  He didn't like this place or that fog.  Something was wrong about all of this and he couldn't quite put his fingers on it.  The clues were starting to pile up but none of them made any sense.

Slowly you work your way through the streets and alleys of this strange new town.  The air is still and motionless, despite the fact that you are within a few dozen yards of the ocean.  While tiny outcroppings of sound and light appear hear and there, the town seems almost as dead as a cemetery.  Just as you are beginning to think the town abandoned you hear the sound of squeaking hinges coming from another alleyway.  With caution in mind, you make your way around to where you suspect the noise came from, but to no avail; still no signs of life.  Then, suddenly, a doorway opens into the alley.  Light, barely visible, a tell-tale flickering, shines out into the darkness.  A lone figure steps into the alley...

"Do I look like I'm afraid?!  I fear no man or beast!"

His comments pointed back into the doorway, which almost as quickly slams shut, nearly sending the figure to his feet.  He mumbles a few barely audible profanities and proceeds to stumble off into the night.  The encroaching fog all but swallows the stranger after a few yards.  A brief scan reveals a sign hanging above the doorway but a lack of lighting, and the fog, make it nearly impossible to make out.

Onyx moves towards the building the man exited and pulls his hooded cloak up and wraps his face as if shielding it from a chill.  "Better safe than sorry." he muttered as he moved quietly towards the building.  Was there a chance that this place had something to drink?

Arryn shoulders his blade and moves forward to read the sign hanging near the door.

In reply to Arryn Andrer (msg # 27):

Larzander waited for Arryn to finish his inspection of the sign. "What's it say?" he asked trying to keep an eye on the groups back as his new friend finished reading.

In reply to Larzander Gunderzen (msg # 28):

Waiting for the others to read the sign, assuming it says inn, or food of some sort.

Stoney knocks on the door.
"Sorry, but we are in some sort of city, I thought it was prudent to simply use courtesy." 
Waiting for an answer to come back.
"Hello, are you open"

Attempting to read the sign is almost completely futile.  Even if the fog were not present, the sign itself has seen some serious years next to the ocean and definitely looks it.  The wood is cracked and splintered and any paint that existed has long since been worn away by weather.  It appears as if it is ready to fall off any day now.

Stoney raps upon the door and, after a few moments, a small section is opened and a pair of eyes appear.  The stranger on the other side eyes the group cautiously...

"You'd better have gold...this ain't no free safe house."

Onyx holds up a gold coin.  If the door opens then he enters with the others.

The tell tale clanking of several large bolts reverberates through the door.  The mass of oaken planks and iron hinges creaks open to reveal what may have once passed for a tavern.  The usual accoutrements are plainly there...the bar counter, various mounts upon the walls, games of chance...but nothing about this place seemed right.  The walls were stained black with soot, completely blocking any view of the material beneath; yet only a small wood stove sat in the middle of the room and it had a vent pipe. No visible windows graced the room whatsoever.  Where perhaps several tables and chairs, a few private booths even, should have been now only contained a small handful of benches as the rest of the room had been converted into hastily crafted beds stacked three high.  On the back wall to the left of the counter sat an old, well worn staircase leading out of view.  While there was talk and chatter in the room, many spoke in hushed tones, some in downright whispers.  After your initial entrance none of them really seemed to pay you any mind.  As you gather inside, the door once again creaks in protest as it is shut and bolted, three times, before having a large bough of oak lodged between two metal brackets on either side of the frame.  The man behind the door turns and looks at each of you in turn.

"That'll be one gold a piece for the evening, not including extras." He flashes a twisted smile made even more sinister by his lack of teeth.

Arryn handed over a gold piece and also held up a second "I'm looking for information. The name of the city, the name of the country, the reason for this unnatural fog?" he said hoping to appeal to the man's greedy nature.

In reply to Arryn Andrer (msg # 33):

Stoney's head is shifting right to left, scanning for something.
"Ale?  Do you have ale?"

The large doorman laughs at Arryn and turns toward the back counter.

"Javoari, we got another one here.  Whole group it looks like", he belts across the room.  His laughter is cut short, however, as a small clay cup crashes into the side of his head.

A womans voice glides from the back,"Keep your damn trap shut or I'll shut it for you."

The doorman sheepishly lowers his gaze, rubbing his head like an angry child.  Remembering the strangers in front of him, he quickly stiffens up; a veiled attempt to seem mean.

"Don't worry, little friend, we have drink enough."