[b][i]The Republic of Erimir[/i][/b] [hider=Nation Status] [b]Current Leader/Government:[/b] Grand Sheriff Beryl Moss (Elective Republic) [b]Settlements Owned:[/b] 3 [b]Provinces Owned:[/b] 1 [b]Population:[/b] 180,000 [b]Standing Army:[/b] [indent] - /<750>/ - /<250>// - /<1000>//<85%>[/indent] [b]Population Happiness: 90%[/b] [b]Imports:[/b] Lumber [b]Exports:[/b] Cattle, Gunpowder [b]Wealth:[/b] Average [b]Alliances:[/b] [b]Trade Pacts:[/b] Kingdom of Asax, Kingdom of Belmorn [b]Cease Fires:[/b] [/hider] [hider=Map of Erimir] [url=http://oi60.tinypic.com/23r1edy.jpg]Larger Map[/url] [IMG]http://oi60.tinypic.com/23r1edy.jpg[/IMG] [/hider] [center][b][u]Armand Sails to Scharweilt[/u][/b][/center] The cool ocean breeze graced the old halfling's face. He'd unbuttoned his vest, the better to feel the wind and the spray of the sea. The waves arched and ebbed. If the sea was a woman, then the waves rose when she took a breath and fell when she exhaled. She was a very, very wonderful woman, Armand decided. "It's good to on a ship again, isn't it?" came a voice from behind him. He turned and saw a familiar face: a human sailor easily his equal in age. A smile crept up the halfling's face. "Peryn, you old rascal!" he exclaimed, walking on forward and grabbing the taller man by the arm, slapping his side warmly. "Gods, has it been this long? We only had a little silver on our heads last we sailed together; and now, you're all greys and I'm half bald." Peryn laughed, shifting his leg. For the first time, Armand heard a distinctive, sharp 'thud', and was surprised to look down and see a peg where there had been a leg. "Well, you just lost hair on your head," bellowed the taller fellow. "[i]I[/i] lost a leg. And haven't you lost some weight? You were round as a robin's egg last; and now you're skinny as a stick!" "I have trouble eating these days," said the old halfling sadly. "I'm not fasting by choice, I'll have you know." "I didn't even know halflings knew the word 'fast' existed in that sense," retorted the mustached man with a grin. "Well, it's good to see you again, Armand. I didn't realize it was you we were taking to Scharweilt." "I didn't realize they still hired old windbags to do a sailor's work." "Oh, shove a sock in it." The human followed his friend back to the prow of the ship, and they stared out at the island. "Won't be long until we make port," Armand noted. "I hope they're accepting merchant vessels." "Last I recall, Scharweilt hasn't lost its aggressive reputation. I remember at the start of the Bohaddon Empire's collapse how they would sink vessels they felt were coming too close to their territory. That's the reason for the pitch and oil, actually: if they attack us, we need to be able to fight back." "I hope it doesn't come to that." Armand reached into his vest, making sure his trusty pistol was still there. It was. "I'd hate to die without being able to slap old Janson at least once." "He's still alive?" "He is." "Well, next time you see that tubby fellow, give him a good kick for me." Peryn lifted his fake leg up. "I'm 'fraid I'll have some difficulty delivering him one myself." [center]* * * * *[/center] It is nightfall as the merchant vessel approaches Scharweilt's shores. The ship flies the white flag of peace with Erimir's banner underneath. The crew is made up of mostly humans, but a single halfling, a dignitary of some sort, can be seen standing on deck. The crew is clearly anxious, though the halfling seems calm and confident.