”To the North, also a lesser known land; Boreus…land of eternal frost. Little is known of its people. They are simply insular, living in recluse away from the rest of Eryth. Separating the North of Alkerd from their land is the Sea of Vergrandia; so named because it is besieged on all sides by landmasses, like a child lost in a crowd. It is the smallest sea of them all…and the moniker from which its name is derived has never been more apt.”–Oceans and Land Masses by [Geographical Researcher] Keanu Silvertongue.

The whuffing of horses and the clip clopping of hooves on the dirt road broke the silence of daybreak. The grass by the roadside was heavily bedewed from an early morning drizzle that aromatized the air with the smell of wet soil while the farms to either side of the road gradually gave way to a serene forest.

The wind was calm, but even then, the raiders could not help tightening their cowls and hoods closer to their faces as the frigidity nipped at their noses. For one it elicited some sneezes and from another, a snort.

“Want to have some absinthe? It’ll warm you right up.” A man’s voice called out to the afflicted individual.

“I’m not one for day drinking; the sun hasn’t even risen yet,” the woman refuted. She applied more pressure to her mount’s belly and transitioned from a trot to a jog to keep ahead.

“Hmph! Suit yourself,” sniggered the man as he swirled the flask in his hand while his free hand steered the horse. The liquid gurgled and seemed to draw his grin; he whipped his head back and drank a mouthful. Some of it dribbled on his stubble but he wiped it off with the back of his gloved hand.

“ I thought we agreed on no drinking when we’re handling requests, Quinten.” Another woman reproached.

“Bah, this is no job. We’re not even at Riftedge yet. Combat is still some days away. Unless we meet brigands on the road…there is nothing to be worried about.”

“Sorry about that Elena,” the incensed woman apologized.

“Think nothing of it Yssinia, it won’t be going to your evaluation.” The blonde haired sylvani replied. “I’m looking forward to breakfast in Riftedge. It’s going to be a while before we get back to our creature comforts.”

“That it will,” Yssinia replied. “I know a good eatery and inn at Riftedge. It’s not fancy but their portions are well cooked and big.”

“I am looking forward to it.” Elena smiled, curtly.

“We’re here.” Yssinia said, dismounting from her Alkerdian Heavy. The horse was well accustomed to her kin, horses being cautious and all about predators or people with predatory features. Yssinia didn’t like horses because they always tried to buck her off since she was a Canis-kin; it was even worse with the wingless avian birds they called llimu.

“Ye Olde Melon?” Elena asked skeptically as she gave her reins to the stableboy. She looked at the stucco façade of what was unmistakably a repurposed mansion. The building had long lost its embellishments to inclement weather. That and the din that sounded from the interior almost reminded her of The Griffin’s Roost.

Unlike the carefully planned streets of Aldmoor, the port of Riftedge was a dwarven outpost that seemed to have mushroomed overnight. The buildings were all well and good; most only went up to three stories on account of regulation from the port’s harbor master. Something about clearance for landing and taking off.

The residents, however haphazard they’d thrown together a bustling town, were still of the mind to make sure there was a large main street that could accommodate six carriages abreast for traffic to and from the harbor.

But even that was choked with traffic. Standing on the incline that led to the inn itself, she saw riders, wagoneers, couriers and centaurs jostling for right of way. The stables were below, with straight access to a street that went to the main thoroughfare while the old mansion-turned-tavern sat on a little hillock.

It was built on what was definitely the remains of a plateau that was dug into for building materials. There was a gabion against the slope cobbled together with mortar, though it was in need of repairs.

They took the stairs up the slope to where the tavern itself sat, looming over the rest of its neighbors below.

‘Yap, definitely an old noble’s mansion.’ Elana speculated. Just then, a large shadow passed overhead, obstructing the sky. It was the underbelly of an aership gliding in for a landing at the port. By the looks of its blue livery emblazoned on the hull it was definitely a merchant ship.

The logotype consisted of a jute bag sprouting wings while gold crowns spilled out of it. The name The Phylandir was curved below it. Whoever was helming the ship seemed to have a flair for the dramatic because he was clearly trying to get the ship’s keel as low as it could go without scraping on the roof shingles.

It blew a gust of wind in its wake as it passed and the party below had to cover their eyes with scarves or cowls to keep out the dust and autumn leaves.

“Vesper-damned rapscallions!,” yelled a bald headed man shaking his fist at the aership descending into the port, at the edge of the rift. By then, it disappeared from the top of buildings until only its crow’s nest could be seen.

“G’morning Mister Grandel. Sorry about that,” Yssinia called out to the man with graying mutton chops.

“Oh, it’s you Yssinia. Good day to you. Haven’t seen you in a while,” he replied as he wrung his hands against his apron. He turned around and went back into the inn, through the main door facing what used to be the mansion’s porch.

“Well, let’s get our breakfast then,” supplied Hanaestra as she made for the door while unslinging the bow from her back. The other members of Wyvern’s Woe followed suit.

Breakfast was a nondescript affair, the food was good, the ambiance did not leave Elena unsatisfied. Like Yssinia said, they had good portions, which she was only so eager to enjoy.

Well, for Elena, sometimes food was food when she was on the job. The sylvani was no [Gourmet] but she appreciated a good morning meal to get the day started. Even here, she’d ordered a mug of warm milk to go with her bread and pottage. It was filling.

Done, the party headed towards the direction of the port where they would get a barge to ferry them across the valley. The entrance to the barges was like a subway ramp that gently sloped towards the rift. Traffic was scant in this area, save for adventurers who could be seen coming to and from the barges on foot or on their mounts.

The exit had people in various states of grunginess, like leaves in their hair or scuff marks in their knee guards. Some had blood on their gear and some small injuries or some scars that were evident signs of a healing potion. They looked tired; tired but excited to have come back from their excursion into the forest.

The thing about the Great Vale was, besides its nature as a forest, it also had various ruins and dungeons for seekers of treasures. Some were caves hidden by crawling vines and shrubbery. Others were crevasses in the ground, a result of nature or accidental encounters by people foraying into the forest which later led to excavations.

The forest between Aldmoor and Riftedge port was tame by comparison because there were rarely any beasts that posed a threat to travelers. In addition, the old dungeon that lay outside the town’s wall had long been cleared and was there just for the sake of beginner adventurers who wanted to test their mettle. The more lucrative adventuring for Silver rankers and above was to be found beyond Aldmoor’s walls

“Whew! that’s quite a drop,” Quinten commented as they were conveyed by a pulley powered rift barge across the rent. “Say Triston, how deep do you reckon it goes for?” he asked the ever silent [Rogue] of the party. As usual, Triston just grunted and shrugged his shoulders. “Mmh, I wouldn’t know either chum. I wonder if those booksy types will start measuring everything now that they managed to put their heads together,” he swirled his drink and leaned against the barge’s railing.

Elenaril was just looking at the imposing escarpment above them, as the barge rolled along two taut cables. There were berths jutting out of the crag, some had ships docked on them while sailors went about their business.

She spotted the Plylandir docked on one of the merchant berths while dwarven dockhands hoisted cargo using pulley cranes. Then she looked into the gaping rift itself, which disappeared underneath a fogbank of a river whose breadth was as wide as it was.

“ Y’hear they got a new way for measuring things,” Yssinia said as she sidled up to Elena. “ Mmh? Oh, universal units they called them? Didn’t get much of a look at them. I’ve been busy working on my days off.”

“I got them down on our map. See—” said Yssinia showing her the worn map with notations on the sides. “It makes it easier to see where things are. They even tried to measure the distance to the first camp because it's well known.”

A draft blew, rocking the barge slightly and the [Ranger] had to hold onto the map to prevent the wind from snatching it away. Elena’s interest was piqued; she almost cursed herself for not looking over her own map when she went to get her supplies from the guild assuming things were the same.

“So, how do these measurements work?” Elena asked, giving the horses on the barge a side eye. Their eyes had been covered to prevent them from being spooked by the steep drop to the rift.

“It’s easy, remember when we used to say a league is one and a half thousand paces?”

“Er, you mean a thousand and five hundred?”

“Yes, so one and a half thousand paces are now measured as five quints. Now a quint is the largest acceptable measure,” Yssinia asserted.

“Yeeesss,” Elena leaned into it. “Continue—”

“So, a quint is divided into a thousand mesurs.”

“Ah, so a league is five thousand of those,”

“Yes, how’d you figure? You learned to do arithmetic at the Church didn’t you?”

“Of course, where else? Did you learn at the Church too?”

“Uhm, yea… I think,” Yssinia said, visibly flustered. “I used to be a truant, running in the streets y’know. But I tried to count at least.”

“Oh, you used to be…”

“Yes, a street rat. Had to work for winter food and all…I know the church provided food; but I was getting tired of the same meal all over and over again y’know.”

“I didn’t know…I’m sorry.”

“Ah, don’t let it get you down; it's better these days since I started donating my earnings to get some young ones fed so they’d learn their letters and numbers. Had to pull myself by my breeches when I realized adventuring would need me to read letters…so here I am.”

“That’s—”

“We’re here…” Yssinia jolted as the barge rattled to a stop on the other end of the rift. Elenia didn’t realize how much time had passed. Unfastening the reins from her horse, she followed behind Yssinia who was heading towards the cave that connected the barge platform on the other side. Other adventurers stood aside as the party disembarked before they got on. After paying a toll for the use of the barge, the party saddled their horses and rode into the Vale proper.

“Yssinia, any news on monster sightings on our route?” Hanaestra called out as they pushed their horses into a gallop through a forest trail. Leaf litter and dead wood crunched underneath their hooves, on the slightly moist track.

“No I don’t think so, it's relatively safe I think,” Yssinia replied as she looked around the towering, ligneous behemoths of the Vale. Her ears twitched to scan their vicinity which was alive with the sounds of birds and small creatures.

Above them the queen sequoia and other tall species like colossi rougewoods towered, branches sussurating in a gentle wind. Sunlight from the late morning sun diffused through the high canopy causing a Tyndall effect that still managed to provide illumination for the riders and their mounts.

“How far is our first camp?” Elena asked, eyes ahead of her as she kept pace with the two women who were on the lead. The three men in the party took to the left, right and center at the rear.

“About fifty quints.” The Canis-kin simpered in response.

“Ah, ten leagues, I am going to have to get used to these new terms aren’t I?”

“And I haven’t even gotten to the smaller measures yet—” Yssinia added.

“Ugh, there were more? Heh, tell me about them at camp then.” Elena responded in a raised one-arched-brow look.

The party made good time getting to their first stop. A known area frequented by adventurers who went on long delves into various ruins and dungeons scattered around the forest. It was a clearing that was circular in shape, with a corner encircled by the buttress roots of one of the trees in the perimeter.

The way they were shaped looked to be deliberate work of a mage who had an affinity for plants. They were deliberately grown to provide both shade as well as a place to put one’s back to incase monsters were to make their appearance.

Setting up camp was one of the first things Elena was meant to evaluate. Of course she had the know-how to do it herself; it was an essential part of guild training. After clearing dead leaves, they set up a lean-to for those on watch as well as tents for those sleeping using tarps to keep out the wind.

Lunch was packed food from the Ye Olde Melon tavern; at least the last proper food before they went into jerky, as well as foraged fruits and hunted animals for their next meals.

While Elena filled out her evaluation sheets and checked on the evaluation crystals she’d use for the dungeon, Yssinia came over to talk.

“Not to tamper with or influence your job or anything…” said Yssinia sitting beside her where the smoke from their camp fire did not impede them.

“Uh, you said you’d catch up on the rest of the measures later.” Elena said, looking up from her work. She put away the evaluation sheets and crystals, one rectangular crystal embedded into a metal to protect its edges and the back.

“Is that for the dungeon? Never seen one of them before.”

“Oh, the scrying slate? Just old magitech the guild uses. It’s a pretty old artifact; it only works on dungeons where mana is potent though…outside, it just shows runes and stays useless.”

“How do they work?”

“Er, not even I have the guild clearance to know. Like you, I am only at a Silver level.”

“Ever done adventuring?”

“ Me? Not so much…but I know a bit of it. You know Halen the innkeeper used to be an adventurer right? I learnt everything from him…”

“Truly? I heard the stories…Anyway, about the rest of the measures...”

“ Yes, let's get them over with…”

“Oh, before I forget by the way, I heard the mesur was discovered from old documents at an archeological dig. The [Archeologist] who translated the documents was looking over the etymology of some words.

“Mmh?”

“ Somebody Ruinwend I think, he came across arithmetic workings from an alleged [Architect] of the ruins…eh, sorry I’m rambling…” A drop of water plinked on Elena’s nose. “ Ah, it's going to rain tonight,” Yssinia scrunched her nose as the air changed.

“Go on, finish up.”

“Right right, so after the mesur, we have the centum, which is a hundred parts of one mesur…”

“Mmh…”

“Then centums are further divided into smaller units, but the terms haven’t come out yet—”