Winter 841. Throvian Main.
Tail wind and calm waters took us around the Throvian sea forts. Some of our cargo took ill in the passage across the Shoals. Heaved them overboard for the mermaids.
Spring 842. Illyria.
Berth two weeks late from a to-and-fro with navy frigate. Cargo still fetches a good barter for poppy. Leave port with the hull two foot deeper in the water.
Summer 842. The City.
Shut up tighter than a clamshell. Half the poppy money goes on ‘special dispensation' for travel up the Great River. Pick up cargo on the mudflats outside the city walls.
Summer 842. Blackbrook.
Harbor stinks of oil and black powder. They've been raising an army for three seasons now. The Underguild pays a good price for cargo as always.
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