Ostiarium, Dawn – Present Day- Nicolaus Cagliostro
Nicolaus awoke with a start. The dim rays of the dawn where just creeping over the windowsill. Morning. Already. He had worked late into the night, trying to complete some of his experiments before they proceeded on this unfortunate expedition. He sighed and burrowed back into the sheets remembering another sea voyage.
Arrival (Day 1, year 2)
A tall wiry and sparse man stepped carefully onto the creaking gangway and gripped the rail as it swayed, surveying the bustling docks below. He ran his ink stained hand thoughtfully over his sunken cheeked, narrow mouthed face, his sallow skin unusually ruddy from exposure to the sea winds. His mustache was unkempt and heavy stubble rasped across his palm. He pulled his worn hood up over his close-cropped hair to shade his sharp clear hazel eyes; He needed a shave… and a bath. He strode carefully down to the dock and stepped aside to allow others to disembark, relishing the feel of solid ground beneath his feet. The journey had been longer…and more trying than he had anticipated.
Dominating the small community was a stone keep in its final phase of construction. Its four skinny square towers and curtain wall still had scaffolding here and there. Archers and spearmen already patrolled the crenelated walls and pennants snapped in the ocean breeze. The town was filled with activity, docks being expanded, another warehouse going up, and beyond those homes being built. His eyes rested on the men holding court at a small table at the exit from the dock. Before them a line of newly disembarked citizens was being lined up by spearmen; surrounded by the chaos of sailors, traders, merchants and traders going about their business.
He joined the line, and in turn gave his name and occupation for the clerk to enter into his large leather ledger.
“Nicolaus Cagliostro, Apothecary, Chymist and Chirurgeon.”
The dour clerk’s eyes rose from his heavy ledger, his pen stopped in the process of being dipped in a small ink bottle.
“You…are Cagliostro,” murmured the clerk, as he paused and he took in the simple woolen outfit, “you are early. Have you some documents regarding your appointment?”
Nicolaus heaved his heavy bag off his shoulder and withdrew several letters and handed them over without a word. He waited patiently, watching the workers unloading the nearby ships. A crane would be of some use, he mused. His attention snapped back as the Clerk cleared his throat.
“Everything appears to be in order…, YOU THERE, stop loafing about and get a cart for the gentleman’s goods!” The Clerk clapped his hands together at two of the foremen nearby; who at first stood nonplussed, then abruptly turned and swiftly went in search of said cart.
“It appears there was a lapse in communication and we were not made aware that in your correspondence with the Dukes office the date of your arrival had changed,” the Clerk spread his hands in supplication, “and your home is not yet furnished. If it pleases you I will send a boy ahead to secure a room at the Oak Cup, an establishment of repute?”
Nicolaus merely nodded, reached down and turned the ledger towards him, slipped the pen from the Clerk’s hand, dipped it lightly in the ink and wrote his name in the ledger in a flowing hand. He handed the pen to the Clerk and collected his documents. He moved to an open space to await the cart nearby without a backward glance.
He followed behind the cart as it slowly wended towards the keep itself; evidently the tavern was close by, across the plaza. Suncross Plaza apparently, with a gaudy bronze bell topped Shrine of Kupen no less… how original. Well, these new settlements do tend to take their religion seriously. The bell itself began to toll mid-day as the crossed to the other side of the plaza to the comfortably set up tavern.
Once he had settled in to a room at the Cup, apparently a favorite with those of the military, he had his crates stacked with care in the secure ale and spirits warehouse to the rear of the establishment for safe keeping. Now... for a bath.