It is spring in the lands of the Northwight. The sky is clear, the air is crisp, and all around the port town of Halmsted, the morning’s activities are being set about.
Children are feeding animals, women are tending their chores, men are laboring to prepare for the day. Bread is baking, forges are set to burning, packs are stuffed for the goatherds, the few thralls in Halmsted are running about, bearing messages or notes of purchase for their masters, and so on.
This includes the traders down near the beach, unloading their wares by the barrel and crate, taking them to the trader’s market area, a small headland off the beach where the traders set up temporary shelters.
The dwarves of Uppland arrived yesterday, bearing loads of iron, steel, mushrooms, and dark, heady ales.
Four ships, one from the Dans, one from the Akwatyne Duchy of Fallswreth, one from the island Jarldom of Heimdallig, and one from the coastal villages of the North Sea, have already started setting their tents up.
It is a fairly good day for shopping, bartering, and trading in general.