The Coastline is shrouded in darkness and early morning mist as he pulls on the oars towards the mysterious coastline. He is alone and without his brothers. His last beach landing was a hazy nightmare of blood and death. That had been the end of the brotherhood and the start of 5 years as a prisoner of war in that hellhole the Feneris called a prison. Only 50 of us made it out those damnable gates and not a one without scars. I have left that and the wars all behind. There likely wouldn't be any Feneris raiding parties out this far in the ruin. Hell the Pirates hadn't wanted to come this far but the captain had owed him. He continued to pull steadily on the oars as the distance to shore closed. He surveyed his possessions which fit into a travel ruck-sack and sea duffle bag. He had is bow and hunting knife easily accessible but would have to dig a bit for his long sword. Taking a deep breath he held the brine smell in before slowly exhaling as the boat scraped the rocky coast line.
"Come on in stranger and have a drink....mind your boots on the floor"