In the coastal town of Vineta at the edge of Barth Lagoon sits the Matanza Explorer's Guild Tavern ("Old Maggie" to the locals). The Tavern was built out of the old ship Matanza that had been tossed in a storm up the Zingster Strom while passing from the Baltic via the Alte Stramminke inlet. Crashed high on shore, never to set sail again, the old ship was too substantial to be moved. The captain wouldn't abandon his ship, so a new use was found. Now it is frequented by local fisherman and merchants, and managed by the adventurous Astrea Valentine, who had inherited the old wreck from her father.

One cool summer evening, as the sun set in a golden glow over the Barther Bodden, a ragged and weary traveler fell at the steps of the Old Maggie confused, babbling, and disoriented. As strangers moved past entering the tavern, he begged each for a drink, "A drink for a tale, a sip for a song. Any to help and I'll move along."

With each iteration, his voice grew raspier and his tone more desperate. Irritated, travelers would push him over, and kick him away. Still he scrambled back, clawing at the dirt, begging for a drink in his odd sing-song way.

As the evening drew late and the tavern was to close, Astrea headed up front to lock up. There she found the old man, still dryly begging for a drink, grabbing at his own throat, and tears in his barely open eyes, "A drink for a tale, a sip for... a song. Any to help, and I.. I'll... help please...along."

"You poor fool," she exclaimed, and grabbed him by his ragged cloak and drug him inside. She called back to her cook, "Sanje, bring a pitcher!"

Sanje, a hulking figure in a worn jerkin and leather apron, bound sprightly from the kitchen, pitcher and mug in hand. He poured the old man a large mug of clear water, which the vagrant grabbed eagerly and swallowed clumsily.

"Tarry no longer, please bring something... stronger?" the old man begged, as he shook his head slowly back and forth.

Astrea motioned to her bartender Tenethe, who had been watching the commotion while cleaning the counter. Tenethe, who always looked impeccable in his thin white waistcoat and knee high polished black boots, winked and smiled and drew for the beggar a long draught of Rauchbier.

The man grabbed at the smoky beer hungrily, and took it all in one massive gulp. "Darkness surrounding, whirling abounding." he moaned as his eyes rolled back and he nearly fell out of his chair.

Astrea paused thoughtfully, asked the staff to watch over him for a moment, and skipped back to the kitchen. It was clear, the man needed more than a drink. He needed something to get his head straight. She started mixing orange, extract of cola, a healthy dose of cinnamon along with a few other items in a large bowl, and carried it out while still stirring.

She pushed the potent mixture in front of her guest and leaned him forward. "This was my father's own concoction. He called it CinderJack, and said it would straighten your sails when you'd been caught in the deadlights."

The man inhaled deeply, and his eyes and nostrils widened. He buried his face in the bowl and slurped it up loudly, in a moment that could only be described as pure desperation.

He sat up straight, and blinked twice calmly. A wide smile grew across his face, and he started to hum.

"A token a motion and direction, can get you very far
To lands without an ocean, and skies without a star
Beyond the crimson, the veil, the tide, and majesties that you see
Are more worlds and fears and treasures, made to set you free.
Things that move and loves to love with never ending reaches
To rhapsody, elevation, scars enticing and entreaches.
Shape the void, align the four, take you far beyond your dreams.
A token, a motion, and direction, it's all within your means."

With that he jumped to his feet, and threw back his ragged cloak revealing fine vestments laced in gold and gems. He pulled out a silver flask and nimbly poured the remainder of the CinderJack into it.

Bowing gracefully, he smiled and said, "Thank you fine host. I'm off like a ghost." With that he tossed a bag of gold coins to Astrea, and ran out into the night.

Weeks went by without a site of the old man, then one evening as Astrea was preparing to close down, the mysterious stranger stumbled through the door and fell to a heap on the floor. Quietly you could hear him say in halting tones, "A drink for a tale... a sip for a song... Any to help and... I'll move along."

This time the crew of the Matanza knew what to do. Tenethe pulled out a chair as Sanje lifted the man to the seat. Astrea went to the back to mix up the CinderJack for their strange new friend.

Once the man had taken his fill, as before, he sat up straight and began to hum.

"Not all that is met will shine and then glow
Still covered in darkness and flame down below
All beauty and grace was taken you see
Beneath the gold oak that was never a tree
Though selfish and loathing, the light was enticing
A curse stabbed at words that was ever re-writing
We'll find her there bright amidst all the gloom
A token, a motion, and direction spells doom."

He stood and poured the remaining CinderJack into a large silk covered bota. He once again bowed and said, "Thank you my friends. Now to right all the ends." With that he spun on his heels and leapt out the door, lost in the night.

The Old Maggie lit up with laughter. What a strange set of events. Certainly they'd see him again, but when.

Many months went by without any visit from the rogue poet. Then one cool night, under a full fall moon, a carriage approached the Old Maggie, and out stepped the strange old man. This time, he was fully on his feet, dressed only in his finest. He turned to help out a slender woman with porcelain skin and raven black hair. She had kind amber eyes that twinkled in the moonlight, a warm smile never left her face. They approached the tavern and knocked gently on the door.

Astrea answered with a smile. Sanje and Tenethe were close behind, curious and excited.

Astrea welcomed them in with a bow, and said, "Well, this is unexpected." She ushered them to a nearby table.

Over the next few hours the stranger told them a tale, almost too amazing to believe; and this time he no longer spoke in sing-song rhyme.

His name was Sylvain Flambeau, and the lady was his wife Anaelle. They were explorers who had found a way to travel between the elemental planes, which gave them access to strange worlds and amazing treasures. Academics had always speculated on the powers of the primary elemental planes of earth, fire, wind, and air; but the couple had discovered access to tertiary planes that were a cross between aspects of the primary. Here in this plane, the plane they called "Sol", was the only realm where all the primal powers found balance.

Most recently their travels had taken the pair to the tertiary plane of earth and water, the land of the Fae. There they had met the despondent king of the golden forest, Tendrth Martindell. At first Tendrth was a kind and welcome host, but there was a disturbed darkness within; and he became obsessed with Anaelle, locking her away as his own treasure. Sylvain protested, and Tendrth cursed him to speak only in rhyme, and cast him from his kingdom.

Sylvain returned time and time again to the plane of the Fae to find a way to save Anaelle, but moving back and forth between the planes has an adverse effect on the mind. Each time you pass across it takes longer to acclimate the mind's expectations of reality. At his lowest points, Sylvain returned to Sol for help, and luckily found respite at the Old Maggie, and that vitalizing concoction CinderJack.

On his last trip to the Fae, Sylvain had found that Anaelle had slipped from her capture during a successful coup attempt by King Martindell's daughter, Tannid'n. Once reunited the curse was broken. Sylvain and Annaelle left the kingdom, still in civil war, and escaped the realm of the Fae back to Sol.

Over the years, the Flambeaus had accumulated treasures and relics; but they were now done with exploring. They came back to the Matanza to thank their new friends for their help, and offer them the literal key to planar travel.

"I give to you now my tools of travel," he said with a wink.

He handed Astrea a copper rod covered in runes, a simple looking silver key, and a plain gold ring.

"Wear the ring at all times," and with that he placed the ring on her right index finger. As if by magic, it fit perfectly.

"The symbol for Sol, your plane, is a circle. The symbols for the four primal realms are engraved on the rod: Water is two flowing lines, Fire is a triangle, Air is two arrows, and earth is a cross with two bars. Use the copper rod to draw the circle, then draw what runes you wish at its outer edge. With your ring pressed tightly against the key in your hand, insert it into the center of the circle, and a door will appear at that spot for a few moments."

Annaelle turned Astrea to her, and with concern in her eyes but a stern look on her face said, "You must prepare for the unexpected. These planes do not have the same rules as Sol."

"There is both danger and rapture to be found; and of course, always bring your CinderJack," she added with a wink and a smirk.

The couple said their thanks and goodbyes, and left with smiles and waves. Once they'd gone Astrea and the crew went back into the Old Maggie. She locked the door and turned to Sanje and Tenethe and said with a mischievous grin, "Well, where should we go first?"