Of Lavin Buscala

A seabound vessel isn't the worst place to pick up gossip and hearsay, but it is nothing compared to an actual port.

Lavin Buscala hadn't changed as much as I might have liked; the longhouses were of wood, and the guardians still had a mostly pinkish cast.

"What is the status of our people here?" I asked one of the Uruk sailors.

She stiffened a bit. It was the first time I'd spoken to her; in general, the Uruk had been treating me with distant respect, speaking only when spoken to. I needed to gain the evolutions for an Uruk transformation, I had decided.

"Our people," she said, "pay only light rent to live within the walls, or we live outside, in tents."

I blinked. "Why would our people not build houses of their own?"

"We are allowed to lumber only in the northern forest." she explained. "There are beasts of wolves there, and the toll they take on our food supplies is..."