I submit the Baron giving Veldrin a Deed of Friendship.

[Levi Smith]

I, Veldin Ni'Harel, sign here on behalf of Levi Smith. Who, as well as being a smith, is also deplorably illiterate.

Levi Smith
Elder Blacksmith
Elder Tailor
Grandmaster Carpenter
Grandmaster Fletcher
Grandmaster Tinkerer

NOT a scribe.

It's literally one or two screens away from both Cove and the Green Goblin. I'd rather the house go to a member of at least Watchman rank, or a citizen that's been a member for a while, but I'm not that picky.

And I'm selling it for the low low price of nothing. That's right, it's free. I'm cool like that.

Contact me at 389-224-033 or post here.

[Age:]

Crow Grieve
Age: 26
Hair: Jet Black
Eye(s): Gray
Height: 6'3
Build: Slender
Place of Birth: Britain, March 30
Distinguishing Marks: Eyepatch covering missing left eye.

Physical description:
Crow is remarkably tall for a woman, enough to make her stand out from a crowd. Despite her unusual height, she appears otherwise normal with no apparent deformities to suggest that her impressive stature may be a result of some sort of birth defect or affliction. Her hair is so dark that it barely reflects light, and if she were to ever untie her hair, one would notice that it is unusually thick, resembling the texture of wool or llama fur. However on top of her ponytail and her ever-present feathered hat, she modest keeps that unusual quality of herself inconspicuous and mostly out of sight.

A thin and elegantly designed eyepatch covers the cavity of her missing left eye. Her remaining gray one is ever-searching, carrying a light of sly, analytical curiosity. Always upon her lips is an unconscious smirk or half-smile, as if there is something she knows about everything that everybody else does not.

She dresses well, like any noble from Britain with taste might do. Her clothes are always well pressed, embroidered with gold designs, and made of the finest Tokunese silks and Trinsican cashmere.

[Thursday, August 13th. Late evening.]

Under the floorboards of a small cobblestone cottage in the woods, just east of the city of Cove, is a small leather-bound book. As the moon ascends a starry night sky, a woman in a feathered hat lifts the creaking board and withdraws the book from its shadowy niche.

[This information is all OOC.]

Thursday, August 13th. Late evening.

Here I am, settling into my new home in Cove, and no one suspects a thing.

I really wasn't sure whether it was all going to work. I left a potential mess behind in Britain, but if my luck continues as it is, no one will ever know anything. There's no reason the guards would want to search through the murky waters of the moat around the castle anyway. If anyone even tries to delve into my past to find out which noble family I belong to, I've left no evidence of my identity behind. At best, I might be accused of lying about my noble origins, and at that I will graciously apologize for my heinous deception. Then the woman called "Ashleigh Meredith" will be completely dead.

Is it a good idea to keep a written account of my secret elation about getting away with my crime? Absolutely not. But what fun is life without the risk of certain death? The beauty of being out here in this backwater country however, is that it's likely no one would even care if I were discovered. The attitude of these Covian yokels is much too carefree and self-concerned. And while that should be some sort of relief to me, I find myself somewhat disappointed. Surely, however, this is out of a childish desire for attention, and I am truly lucky to have escaped to the North and begun my new life. Although... I wonder if that will lead me to make myself entangled with the less virtuous elements of these local cities.

Most certainly it will. Ah Crow, you are a foolish, conniving thing. I am absolutely infatuated with you.

I've already found myself scouting for the devious and the scheming. Yesterday at a place called Swaggers I met what I very well suspect to be a vampire. Now, chaining myself with undeath is a most unattractive notion, but allying myself with dark forces to serve my own ends, whatever those might turn out to be, is a prospect that is nothing but promising.

The Baron of Cove, Octiovus von Richter, is more or less the man I've heard about. Different from the other aristocrats I've known in that he makes no attempt to hide the more sinister facets of his being. That sort of honesty is refreshing from a breed such as his. But there is still that air of nauseating pompousness and entitlement that drove me to leave Britain in the first place.

There were of course other things that drove me, but at its core, that is the entirety of what was wrong with my family.

A watchman called Thomas Aylmer seems to have taken some kind of liking to me. Though perhaps he is simply starved of attention and my enduring politeness is charming to him. It is hard to tell which, but for now his company does not bother me.

The hour is growing late and my eyes grow heavy. Perhaps it's time to get some sleep.

Ah, sleep. Covian slumber is the deepest and most restful I've had in a long, long while.

Friends. Compatriots.

I am Crow Grieve, recent inductee into the Household Von Richter as a pioneer in the name of Cove. Under his lordship the Baron's orders, it is my responsibility to venture into the unexplored regions of Sosaria, chart them permanently into our world maps, and claim the lands under Covian colors. It is a dangerous and exciting notion, and I invite you, my new Covian allies, to join me.

While I am perfectly capable of manning a ship alone with a bowman, and I can bat off the odd Daemon or Ancient Wyrm with the greatest of ease, this adventure would be absolutely dreadful if I spent it alone. I need the courage and mirth of fellow Covians to color my travels and pain wonderful pictures into my memory.

So, if you're interested in the experience of a lifetime as a corsair pioneer (fancy title, that), please contact me.

• What I require of a corsair:
• You must be able bodied.
• You must know how to use a weapon, or at the least wield the arcane craft.
• You must be obedient and follow my orders to the letter.
• You must be punctual.
• You must love gold and money.

If you agree to work under me and fail to meet any of these requirements, you will not be paid. If you do not do as I ask, you will not be paid. That agreement is simple. And make no mistake: I pay well. Wages are determined for each different excursion.

I will accept Guardsmen and Citizens alike, so long as you meet my requirements. You do not even have to be Covian, so long as you accept that the land staked will be for Cove alone.

Thank you for your gracious time.

All the love in the world,
Crow Grieve

*This parchment notice is pinned outside the Green Goblin.*

Good day, my friends.
Please allow me to formally introduce myself. I am Crow Grieve.

I have recently ended an old life and started a new one here in Cove. It was not my intention to settle here, but I was quickly won over by the charm of the locals, both rich and poor. I have been chartered by the Lord Baron Von Richter as an Explorer in the name of Cove. It is a strangely patriotic role for a new arrival, I know, but I hope fervently not to disappoint.

Speaking of points, I will get to mine. The purpose of the flier is to announce that I am in need of a humble abode. I am inquiring as to whether anyone in the area around Cove or the general nearby coastal region is interested in selling their home to me. If not, I can surely find a modest plot of land, in which case I will still need to finance a construction. I will pay a generous wage.

Please contact me if you are interested in either selling or building a place for me to live. Thank you, most kindly.

All the love in the world,
Crow Grieve