You've been riding for the better part of a day, during which time the rough grass and mud of Blightmarsh has given way to pasture, when the walls of Anselm's Landing come into sight. It is immediately apparent that this is a much larger place than Stonerun—the roofs of many large, palatial structures can be seen above the walls, while at their base are clustered a number of shacks built of driftwood, spare canvas, and other detritus.
As you approach, a man comes running from the shacks and falls in beside you at the front of the caravan.
"Gods be with you, my lord," he says. "If I wasn't just saying that a bunch of strangers mightn't need the assistance of Jerem today." He takes off his hat to reveal a thinning head of hair, and bows as low as he can while still keeping pace with your horse. "Jerem of Homsbagen, if I can be so bold as to introduce myself. I'm a diplomat for hire, part-time tour guide, a trader of…well, anything really. Perhaps there's something I could help you fine steppe folk with today, eh?"