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Contrary to the cether’s belief, the Vysstichi’s docks were in relatively useable condition. The isolated port was large enough to house any single ship of exceptional dimension, and there was enough space such that cargo could be unloaded without interfering with the activities of the neighboring port. Perhaps it was for this reason, though, that this plot of land had been attached with such a lucrative price tag. This section of the Paxian harbor was both ideal for obscurity while at the same time fully operational for business of all assortments.
“Coming in!” came a heralding cry from above. From a short distance away, the silhouette of the magnificent ship emerged through a screen of morning fog, piercing through the ethereal gray like a ray of sunlight pervading the clouds. The ship’s white sails began their incremental descent, no longer needed to catch the northern zephyrs to propel it to the docks. Dozens of men moved hastily about the deck, securing ropes and fastening chords to the ship’s rails to secure the lines, and it was only a matter of minutes until the reasonably sized ship came to a graceful standstill at its port. A wide, makeshift bridge was fastened to an opening in the rail and secured to the harbor to facilitate movement from ship to shore.
The board that connected the sea to the port rattled as a portly man alighted to the docks. His face, beaten by the sunlight, was covered in a thick and curly black beard that would have made a dwarf jealous. And despite the touch of the cool sea breeze, beads of perspiration were mapped across his brow. He did not seem to care, though, and he set his hands upon his wide hips as he gaped about expectedly for his employer, a willowy dark elf. Tapping his foot impatiently, the man rested his hands about a red sash wrapped around his waist and separating his white, ruffled shirt from his tattered brown breeches.
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