Editing The Journal of Veksvale (section)

=='''The View of the Seas'''==

I stepped up to the ledge.  Looking down was twenty thousand feet to a raging sea crashing waves up a thousand feet. In the history of this world this wall must have been the rock of death to mariners.  Waves started hundreds of miles out to sea to splash that high. There was a reason the East Seas were only crossed by the boldest of Sailors and rarely within five hundred miles of the Split Rock. 

But I was in shadow so the “hows and whys” were irrelevant.  I had searched for a world with incredibly rugged mountains and vast wilderness forests.  I had wanted cold too.. I had found it in spades.

I had not braved the waters at the time of this writing.  One day.  Below three seas crashed against the Wall of the World.  The Ice Bound, The Relgalsa, The Sea of Colors.  The seas were so fierce that the  few ports filling gaps in the Wall were supplied by pulleys and come-alongs from the plateau above.  The lure of pearl is all that fed those little places clinging to the stone.

Three thousand miles Downhill to the west was the sea.  Beaches, cities, highways, and a horse and wagon culture. Humans, mostly, though as a traveler I could tell that some time in the past, Orcs, dwarves, and elves had interbred with the natives.  So far back that their histories were barely fairy tales and folklore.

I had spent a month in the region known as '''''Hinterhigh'''''.   East of it was five hundred miles of some of the ruggedest, most beautiful wilderness I'd run across this side of chaos.   At the far end was a thousand mile long edge cutting into the sea that only dropped below sixteen thousand when it reached down to a lower lands on the north and south.  The region was rich with wildlife and game.  

Below the eight thousand mark was large spread out community of people who live in trade off the mountain hunters, gatherers, artisans, adventurers. Its as peaceful a place I was looking for and I found it, for the most part.  They had a tavern of course, with rooms available.  Paka would sit on my lap while I played the harp or the flute.  I tuned instruments if they were brought me and i taught songs other liked.

In the Village I might as well call ''Hinterhigh'' since the people there didn't call it anything, I was told that there was a band of desperate men in the hills.  Had been for decades.   Some kind of defunct warband turned brigands.  They told me that those who chose to live in the deep woods occasionally had to deal with them.  Sometimes they raided Hinterhigh.  They told me to just cooperate with them and I wouldn't be too badly hurt.  They didn't understand me when that made me laugh.  At least when I went into the mountain I'd have something to look forward to. 

There were also a people called the ''Ra-Zati'' who were essentially a wandering nomadic people who moved fairly frequently lived off the land of the high country.  I was told it would serve me well to be on good terms with them. 

A few week into the mountains I found a nice vista.  Good water; a fast moving stream, deep and wide, with a bulge before a flat somewhat wooded area.  High rocky hills protecting from the cold breezes, heavy woodlands.  Plentiful game.    The views were spectacular.  I set up my camp and did a few day trips.  It was perfect.  A great place to winter.  Easy reach of the Wall of the World.   Lot of nice rocks around for day climbs.

So I dragged out my iron kits. The cook set up was first.  The large tripod and the big pot.  A couple smaller sets.  Three fires.  Gonna need them.    Setting the pans out.  I hadn't unloaded the iron kits in this world yet.  It meant I was staying here.  Maybe a few years.   A good cook area was needed first.  Places for skinning, prepping, drying.  I'd build a smoke house eventually, and a good still barn.   A fish pond. A hot pool. 
 
But first would be a good sized single room cabin.  Maybe three room.   Plenty of wood.  Paka and I could manage.