ALLIRIA
WESTERN DOCKS
With great effort and incredible splendor, Hernan Alcantara and his escort disembarked at the port of Alliria. They had chosen the Western side of the city to come ashore, as this was where the Trade Council's chambers were housed, and Hernan had every intention of visiting them before he was done. One by one, the Cortosi exited the rowboat. And like any pious man, Hernan let the illustrious members of the Solar Choir disembark first. They were a gaudy bunch, clad in gold and crimson robes, wearing ruby rings and necklaces. They stuck out back home in Cortos, and they stuck out even more here in Alliria.
Hernan stepped onto the rickety planks of the docks after the last of the men who came ashore with him - a few Cortosi sailors. The Choirmen were already gone, vanished into the city. Hernan was still observing the sailors as they tied the ship down when one of the harbormasters came marching over, ledger tucked up under his arm. Hernan took one look at this man and his dark, inset eyes, and knew him to be overworked.
"Excuse me, sir, but am I correct in assuming have come from those warships, there?"
Hernan threw aside his luxurious red shoulder cape, exposing the ornate hilt of his rapier to the open air. It was only what any self-respecting Cortosi would do when questioned on any matter. His chin raised imperiously. "I beg your pardon?"
The harbormaster gestured far out to the bay, where three ships had anchored themselves. Hernan turned to look, as if seeing them for the first time, as if those were not the same warships he arrived here with. "Those warships." reiterated the harbormaster, who dealt with characters such as Hernan on an hourly basis.
They were a trio of magnificent wooden beasts, truly. Triple decked, fully rigged. You could not see so clearly from this distance, but Hernan knew them to be bristling with the gruesome ballistae the Cortosi were known for. These were the same style of ships that had fought respectably (if futilely) against Vel Anir in the Quatreville Wars, the last of which ended nearly a decade ago.
"Ah," said Hernan, and permitted his shoulder cape to fall back to his side. "Yes. That is where I have come from. Are you after a docking fee?"
"Yes."
From within his doublet, Hernan retrieved a small piece of parchment that had been rolled into a tube, then tied with a lavish purple ribbon. He presented it to the harbormaster with a regal bearing similar to a king presenting his hand to be kissed. In turn, the harbormaster received it with the same bearing of a tired man humoring a lunatic.
After unrolling the document and skimming its contents, however, the countenance of the harbormaster changed quickly. He returned it to Hernan and excused himself, hurrying back into the throngs of merchants and sailors. Doubtless word would now spread among the other harbormasters, and his colleagues would not have to suffer further brushes with bureaucracy.
The Cortosi sailors went about their business of obtaining supplies now, but Hernan still lingered at the docks, waiting for his brother to arrive with the next group.
WESTERN DOCKS
With great effort and incredible splendor, Hernan Alcantara and his escort disembarked at the port of Alliria. They had chosen the Western side of the city to come ashore, as this was where the Trade Council's chambers were housed, and Hernan had every intention of visiting them before he was done. One by one, the Cortosi exited the rowboat. And like any pious man, Hernan let the illustrious members of the Solar Choir disembark first. They were a gaudy bunch, clad in gold and crimson robes, wearing ruby rings and necklaces. They stuck out back home in Cortos, and they stuck out even more here in Alliria.
Hernan stepped onto the rickety planks of the docks after the last of the men who came ashore with him - a few Cortosi sailors. The Choirmen were already gone, vanished into the city. Hernan was still observing the sailors as they tied the ship down when one of the harbormasters came marching over, ledger tucked up under his arm. Hernan took one look at this man and his dark, inset eyes, and knew him to be overworked.
"Excuse me, sir, but am I correct in assuming have come from those warships, there?"
Hernan threw aside his luxurious red shoulder cape, exposing the ornate hilt of his rapier to the open air. It was only what any self-respecting Cortosi would do when questioned on any matter. His chin raised imperiously. "I beg your pardon?"
The harbormaster gestured far out to the bay, where three ships had anchored themselves. Hernan turned to look, as if seeing them for the first time, as if those were not the same warships he arrived here with. "Those warships." reiterated the harbormaster, who dealt with characters such as Hernan on an hourly basis.
They were a trio of magnificent wooden beasts, truly. Triple decked, fully rigged. You could not see so clearly from this distance, but Hernan knew them to be bristling with the gruesome ballistae the Cortosi were known for. These were the same style of ships that had fought respectably (if futilely) against Vel Anir in the Quatreville Wars, the last of which ended nearly a decade ago.
"Ah," said Hernan, and permitted his shoulder cape to fall back to his side. "Yes. That is where I have come from. Are you after a docking fee?"
"Yes."
From within his doublet, Hernan retrieved a small piece of parchment that had been rolled into a tube, then tied with a lavish purple ribbon. He presented it to the harbormaster with a regal bearing similar to a king presenting his hand to be kissed. In turn, the harbormaster received it with the same bearing of a tired man humoring a lunatic.
After unrolling the document and skimming its contents, however, the countenance of the harbormaster changed quickly. He returned it to Hernan and excused himself, hurrying back into the throngs of merchants and sailors. Doubtless word would now spread among the other harbormasters, and his colleagues would not have to suffer further brushes with bureaucracy.
The Cortosi sailors went about their business of obtaining supplies now, but Hernan still lingered at the docks, waiting for his brother to arrive with the next group.
