New Orleans

You would enjoy a break from the cold. Over the next few days you make your way stealthily to the port, moving through the woods on the roadside, camping during the day and moving at night. It's a tense few days, as you wonder whether you'll be found by the army, eaten by wolves, or murdered by roadside bandits. Fortunately, none of the above applied.

The smell of the sea preceded the sounds of the port, finally followed by the sight. You walked into town, trying to look as casual as possible, leaving your musket in a safe place. You strolled the dock, looking to overhear as much info as possible. Finally, you found men talking about a ship going to your destination. A run-of-the-mill trade vessel, you etched the sight of it in your mind. That night you retrieved your gun and snuck aboard, hiding in the cargo hold with a satchel of supplies. The wooden floor is hard and unforgiving, and having to deal with crates moving around constantly didn't make things any better. It is going to be a loooooong trip.