-Genesifin Daylight, and with it an assortment of aches and pains, roused them, and they dressed gingerly before bravely attacking the morning’s greasy fare delivered to their door. The bar was stripped of the night’s exuberance, yet several prying glances met them as they entered. Darse and Brenol ignored them and any conversation as their coffee set to work. They paid for the meal and then followed a reedy boy through the town until he led them to the river’s rocky shore. The urchin lifted a finger at one of the four rafts secured along the bank. “Hula. That’s tha’ one.” He eyed the two strangers as they traced his gesture to the craft. She was a small pole raft, narrow and built for no more than two souls. Though she appeared recently constructed, her wood was so worn it must have been plucked from the debris of a storm. Long, thin rails rested across her splintering belly, while a diverse rainbow of chipped paint adorned her logs, and a curious smell clung to the wood.
