Pinagore grunts as he puts his back into the rowing. He had been chasing a particularly elusive school of pipe fish with his nets and was much further out than he intended. Now, instead of being home with his boat in dock and his catch cleaned, he is racing the sunset. "J'taten fool!" He curses his own foolishness in a spare breath and then attempts to increase the rate at which he pumps the oars and moves his small fishing boat across the surface of the ocean. "You were forgettin' to watch the time and now you've gone and been caught like a candied clam at low tide." The old fisherman throws an angry glance at the sun, which floats a fingerspan or two from touching the horizon. Shaking his head and cursing himself once, Pinagore continues to row as fast as his weathered limbs are able.

Half of the sun has sunk below the horizon of Mer's oceans when he finally runs his boat aground on the beach of Kinja. Pinagore longs to jump from the vessel and run so he won't be late, but years of training and experience forbid it. No matter how good things have been lately, it would be unwise to waste an entire catch by letting rot in the nets. He curses himself once more, and takes his net of fish from the boat and clambers out of his boat. The old man quickly moves to a nearby gutting table and spills the catch across its surface. He pulls a long knife out its belt sheath and begins to work, cutting off heads and tails and slicing open bellies to remove the guts. His moves are practiced, the results of long hard years at his trade. But in his haste, he delivers a few cuts to his own fingers. This causes the man even more self-directed anger, and results in another long stream of choice curses to be uttered into the evening air.

Finally, when the crown of the sun is no more than a finger above the horizon, his work is done. Pinagore hurriedly dumps the fish he has caught into a salting barrel. "Salted fish in the hold is worth a school in the sea," he mutters as he pours a bucket of water over his head and hands to remove the horrid smell. " 'Sides, I can always be gettin' 'em when the night's done." Satisfied with the job he's done, the old fisherman leaves his property and quickly makes his way through the streets of his island home.

The town is quiet and empty, seemingly deserted. A stranger would fear that some evil of years past had befallen the island-city, but Pinagore has lived here for all of his eighty-plus years. He knows what is happening. It is the event that he keeps berating himself for nearly missing. "By Davron's beard!" He should have been willing to pay the docking fees and rowed down to this part of the island, rather than beaching his boat in its usual spot. "Well, one can't tell the tide to come back in while it's on its out." He mentally shrugs and continues on his way, turning the last corner onto the Merchants' Docks and finally seeing his destination.

It's the biggest tavern on Kinja, perhaps in all of the twenty seas save for the islands of Octopon. The large building spans most of the length of docks. The doors and shutters are thrown wide, allowing the warm glow of lantern light to spill out of the spacious common room and on the wooden planks of the docks and the smooth stones of the streets. As Pinagore slows his pace and approaches the building, he can hear the sounds of laughter and conversation from his fellow islanders who are already inside the tavern. "I hope my good-for-nothing grandson saved me a seat," he growls to himself as he reaches the door. He spares a glance up at the building's sign and reads once more the name everyone in these waters knows - The Mermaid's Tale.

The old fisherman walks into the vast common room, breathing heavily from his rapid walk to this side of the island. He quickly looks to the stage on the far wall - empty. "Good, " he thinks. "I'm not so late after all." He takes advantage of the time spent looking around the room to catch his breath and wipe the sweat from his brow. A scowl begins to spread across his face as he scans his fellow Kinjans. "Where is that getha pig of a grandson.?"

"Grandfather!" The cry echoes across the tavern and wipes the irritation from Pinagore's face. The old fisherman spots his offspring waving from a table near the front and quickly moves towards him. The last of the man's anger fades when he sees that his grandson has indeed saved him a seat. "Grandfather, I was getting worried. Thought you might have been swallowed by a leviathan or something." Pinagore gratefully sinks into the offered chair and waves off the concern. "Bah! I should've tried to catch one to feed your appetite, grandson." His voice is gruff, but warm and loving. " 'Sides, you should know that nothing will keep me away from Story Night. I was here for the first one, you know."

His grandson quickly places a mug of ale in front of him to forestall the expected bout of reminiscing. Pinagore knows the gesture for what it is, but doesn't bother to scold his grandson. Tonight is not the night to engage in familial banter. There are more important things at stake. Something hovers in the air, tickling his senses like the smell of a whale oil candle. The old fisherman feels that there is going to be something different about this Story Night. This one will be special.

She sits silently on a stool, hidden in the shadows of the passage to the kitchens. She sighs as she watches the old man enter her tavern and sit down with his family. "It is good to have family," she thinks, A warm, but tired, smile comes to her lips as she thinks fondly of her own family, with its own large number of grandchildren. And one of them had just told her about an impending birth - what would be her first great-grandchild. She sighs again. "I'm too old," she tells herself. "It's time to go back to the sea and let my children tell the tales. But not tonight. There are still a few more songs I must sing." With the determination brought on by that thought, she slides off the stool and begins to walk slowly towards the stage and the place which has been reserved for her.

The townsfolk quickly fall quiet as she passes them. The expectant silence sweeps outward from her like the ripples from a boulder dropped into the sea. Even the children stop their giggling and playing and dash back to their seats on the floor in front of the stage. The serving staff quickly delivers the last of the food and drink, and then makes their way back to the bar, where they wait in just as much rapt silence as the rest of the island of Kinja. She knows she should scold them as they've heard her tales many times, but she can't find it in her heart to do it. Not this time, anyway. Tonight they would hear stories and songs which she has not given voice to before.

Finally, she ascends to the stage and slowly sits in the place that has been prepared for her. The rocks have been heated to perfect temperature; her seat is pleasantly warm and it relaxes her old bones. She closes her eyes and indulges in a sigh as she stretches and allows the kinks to work themselves out. The lines of her weathered face smooth as she relaxes and gathers her thoughts. When she feels she is ready, she leans forward, flipping her long white hair back over her shoulders. She looks out over the gathered crowd. She sees the expectation shining in their eyes. "Far be it from me to not place the worm in front of the hungry fish," she thinks. A quick spell is sung, and now her voice will carry to all corners of the building. Story Night begins.

"I greet you all, and bid you welcome to my tavern, The Mermaid's Tale," the old woman formally announces. "It so good to see the faces of all my fellow neighbors of Kinja. It also brings me pleasure to see the new faces of those who are visiting our island this evening. Tonight, I will share with you stories and songs about our people and our world. I sing not just you who are gathered here, but for all of our world of Mer, so that the tales I tell will be remembered for generations and the lessons contained therein will not be forgotten. So please, as you listen, eat my food and enjoy my drinks. But above all, remember what you hear this evening." When she pauses to take a breath, the mob of children can contain itself no longer and bursts forth into a rip-tide of questions.

"What're you gonna tell us tonight?"
"Are there pirates?"
"What about monsters?"
"Will it be scary?"
"Tell us about how Rul defeated Keroptus!"
"Is this a true story?"
"How do you know all this stuff, anyway?"

She lifts her hands to quiet the children, chuckling at their enthusiasm. "All in good time, younglings. You must be patient. Nothing good is ever gained in haste." She hears a quiet *harrumph* from the audience. Glancing in that direction, she sees the old man who the last person to arrive this night. "That includes a good seat, Pinagore." The fisherman has the grace to look embarrassed as the rest of the island's residents chuckle at the joke made at his expense. "Tonight, I will sing of a very important event in the history of our world. It happened not yet a hundred years past, but very few alive today know the truth of it. I will sing a tale that I have not yet sung to anyone. You, my friends are the first." She nods when she hears the appreciative and surprised murmur spread through the gathered throng.

"Tonight, I sing of how King Ren I of Octopon saved Mer from the threat of Dark Water and fulfilled the prophecy of Rul by destroying the Dark Dweller." The children clap in delight and crowd speaks its approval. However, the tale they are about to hear is not the one they think it will be. They will not hear the lore and legends which have already grown in the short time since this great event had happened. Instead, they will hear the truth.

"Oh yes, my friends, this is a great tale. And yes, children, there are indeed pirates and monsters. At times it will be scary. It is a tale that started several Ages ago with Rul, and ended with Ren. It is a long tale, but one that must be told and remembered. But the story you will hear tonight is not the one you think know, the one you have heard from lips other than mine. For what I tell you tonight is the true tale of what happened in those times." She pauses to hear the gasp she knew her words would draw forth. "How do I know what I am about to say is the Truth and the other versions are not? Very simple. For you see, I was there. I saw it happen with my own eyes."

"Sit back and listen now to my words as I sing of the voyages of the Reef Runner and her crew..."