You walk into the tavern dripping water everywhere. There appears to be a giant bucket, more like a bath, for everyone to put their wet gear in. The fire is roaring and a young sailor who looks as wet as you pulls a chair over for you. A pitcher of ale sits on a table, with a tin for everyone to just add coppers to keep it topped up.

After a hot meal, you start drying off with steam rising from your boots. Though the rooms are sold out, because of the storm the owner has made ready the stables with a fire pit and hay and bedrolls. You gladly stay the night and hope for better weather tomorrow.

In the morning, a courier arrives at the tavern asking for you by name. Finding you, he exclaims, “Thank Pelor! The Duke did hope you had the sense to stop and stay somewhere along the road.” He seems worn out after his long ride. “ The landlady of Mistress Maral took the evening to look for items for you - she hasn’t left many belongings there I’m afraid. But the lady did find a drawing of a map that could be useful?” He hands you a leather pouch from inside his jacket.

It contains an artistic landscape with areas mapped out. It appears to show the location of the town of Saltfork, the irony of which is not lost on you after your hours of riding in the rain yesterday. (click here to download wallpaper of drawing without map symbols)