"Alright Ms. Captain, I see you mean business. Why don't we all just sit a spell & relax. Not sure who's obliged to offer hospitality here, but y'all are new neighbors so you're welcome on our boat, or we can talk from that raft if'n y'all prefer."

He turns to one of the men watching on from said boat, "Ed, you mind pouring up some tea?" With a reply of a curt nod, the sailor steps into the cabin & out of sight.

Turning back to you, he says "Y'all can come on out of the corridor, I think we's pretty much settled on a deal here afterall. He sits down on the edge of his boat, & pulls out a finely crafted map of the region.

"We're here in this washed up wreck, nothing special really, just a small ship graveyard from desperate souls trying to make their way up river when the bombs dropped all them years ago. Prolly saw Elizabeth go up in smoke n' figured it would be safer inland. Maybe they were avoidin' the great waves that came to suck up the banks. Doesn't matter now, they're all long gone. Occasionally you might find somethin' good pokin' around in the rust, but nothin' worth gettin' your hopes up."

His finger moves from the spot further East & a bit North to "Elizabeth."

"This here was where the Coast Guard had a big fleet, 'long with airships n' whatever else. Just a smoking crater in the ground, but who knows, maybe something there's been left untouched. Wouldn't chance it if I were you though, no easy way to scrub clean a sandy boat."

His hand goes back towards where it was, where you are, but diverts to a town called "Edenton" sat on a bay. "Folks still live here, sure, but it's not the kinda' place anyone who knows anything wants to be. People go missing all the damn time. I recommend you stay the hell away, & if someone says that's where they're from, you row right along."

He cuts across the narrow stretch of the sound to a couple towns, "Avoca," "Plymouth," "Merry Hill," & "Windsor." "Corsairs & Purveyors call these ports neutral territory, which helps keep things nice & quiet 'round here. It ain't pretty, but that's just how it is. They drop anchor at Avoca, sell off what they're grabbed up, buy up what they want & need, & occasionally stop by the bigger trade towns of Plymouth & Windsor for nicer amenities. Keeps a degree of separation between who buys & sells, cutthroat pirates, "honest" merchants, & the trade caravans that travel further inland. Merry Hill's where the traders from Avoca live, & rumor has it keep their storehouses. You'll find a few other towns like ours here & there, mostly living off the scraps of the trade or just stickin' to honest work: huntin', fishin', farmin', buildin', trappin'."