The port of Saravela shared its name with the island that sheltered it.

Barely twenty feet away from the city Ainsley was anxiously waiting on the deck of the Polaris, he couldn’t wait to set foot on solid land after three weeks at sea. The crew had already finished the maneuvers to dock the vessel, but there was still some procedures that had to take place before anyone could leave the ship.

Not far from the redheaded researcher a couple sailors were placing the algamerate gangplank that would connect the ship with the port. Captain Smolger was close them, peeking at a few papers in his hands with a mildly annoyed expression. They were the documents required by the local authorities to disembark. A collection of boring things, like the vessel’s nationality, it’s owner, cargo and purpose. As well as some permits.

On the dock’s side a port official was already waiting to get on board to check if everything was in order. He was an old looking northfolk with a tidy dark blue uniform and a pompous demeanor that was escorted by two soldiers of the same race.

The northfolk were a race mostly seen in cold regions. Taller than humans, with burly bodies and rugged skin of dull brown and light grey tones, they were natural born warriors. Not so long ago their ancestors had terrorized and pillaged every town they could reach on their boats, all the way to the hearth of the Taisregn Archipelago.

As apt swimmers and divers, nowadays they were considered a race of skilled sailors. They couldn’t breath underwater like the merfolk, but had a natural resistance to the frigid waters of the northern seas. They had preference for cold climates, but despite that quite a few of their members lived in the Eastbern Empire, where they were highly appreciated in jobs that required hard physical labor.

Once the gangplank was secured in it’s position the port official sauntered towards the deck with his guards in tow. “Welcome to Saravela, gentlemen. I’m Port Official Norell.” He said once he finally stepped onto the ship. His tone sounded professional, but the way he swung the thick whiskers that made his mustache and the arching of his mouth, that had a pair of round fangs peeking from it’s upper side, made it clear he didn’t consider anyone on board worth of his consideration.

“Official Norell, pleased to meet you. I’m Atkins Smolger, captain of the Polaris,” after a slight hesitation, Captain Smolger, who had conveniently situated himself close to the gangplank, greeted the port official with a bright smile. Following an effusive handshake both men started reviewing the papers and discussing the terms and fees of the port.

Ainsley didn’t care in the slightlest about the bureaucratic chatter going on near him and chose instead to distract himself by observing the small town. Past the port full of activity there were a few old storehouses and a messy open air market with stalls full of fish and products from overseas. Behind them a few wide streets surrounded by inns and tavern of shady aspect led uphill towards a more pristine part of the city.

Other than the snow piling here and there the place wasn’t remarkable in any way. Tiny metropolis like this one were aplenty in the Taisreign Archipelago. Towards his right Ainsley even saw some suburbs full of precarious constructions that occupied the area near the cliffs.

Those were indispensable in any modern city, at least according to the factory owners, that hailed them as the most convenient way to shelter the massive amount of workers they needed. Victoria itself, as the capital of the most prosperous empire east of the Great Western Ocean, could boast of having the most extensive and dangerous slums just behind its imposing industrial district.

“We can disembark,” Captain Smolger declared to everyone. While Ainsley wasn’t paying attention he and the port official had finished their talk. A few sailors rushed down to the cargo hold, the sooner they ended offloading the empty boxes and barrels the sooner they could enjoy some free time in the city.

Finally. Without bothering to tell anyone Ainsley immediately walked down the gangplank. First of all he would get a new coat that could protect him from the cold.

“Mr. Wilkins!” As Ainsley was about to set foot onto the docks Captain Smolger called to him.

“Mr. Wilkins, wait. I will ask some of my sailors to accompany you. This city is not part of the Eastbern Empire, public safety may be concern.” He said approaching Ainsley.

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“I can defend myself, Captain Smolger.” Ainsley replied turning around. “I’m not a kid nor a noble lady.” Said the researcher, mildly offended by the captain’s lack of trust in him.

“I must insist. If not for protection, they may at least make themselves useful to you by carrying your… stuff.”

“I don’t need any porters either. I only plan to buy a couple things.” Feeling annoyed, but not wanting to start a pointless argument that would only delay his business, Ainsley gave the captain a quick reply and proceeded to walk away.

But before he could leave Captain Smolger grabbed his shoulder and looked him in the eye. “You have to understand, Mr. Wilkins, that your presence is crucial for the completion of our mission.” He said in a serious tone. “We can’t afford the consequences of you getting hurt, even if it’s by accident.”

Did he not trust Ainsley that much? Deeply offended by the captain’s attitude towards him Ainsley pulled apart his cloak and revealed a gun. “As you can see captain, I have all the protection I need. This isn’t my first time in an unfamiliar city.”

Ainsley always carried his trusty pistol with him. His father had gifted it to him when he left for Victoria. He was an army official, the same as Ainsley’s grandfather, and pretty much everyone in their family. They had taught Ainsley how to handle a weapon from an early age.

Captain Smolger wasn’t impressed by Ainsley’s display of a weapon, but he reckoned that the young man wouldn’t yield to his request. “As you wish.” He conceded with a sight. He would have to order Hages to follow the researcher discreetly.

...

Later that day, not long after the last rays of the sun disappeared under the horizon, Ainsley and a few crew members of the Polaris entered one of the port’s shady taverns.

“Hey, c’mon! Don’t make that face. You will have fun.” Sherman, the radio operator, said patting Ainsley on his shoulder. His casual demeanor was proof that he had already had some drinks beforehand. The redheaded researcher wasn’t fond of drinking, but under Sherman’s insistence he had finally given up.

“Yes, yes. You don’t have to push me.” Ainsley replied taking Sherman’s hand off his new coat. Ainsley had bought it from a northfolk tailor he had found after roaming the city for a while. He hadn’t had any incidents whatsoever during this small trip, proving that Captain Smolger worries were unfounded.

“I don’t know why that guy has to come with us.” Jack the lookout grumbled a few steps behind Ainsley.

“Jack! You should be more polite to Mr. Wilkins.” Daniel, the mop boy, rushed to admonish him.

“And you shouldn’t be here at your age.” Jack retorted glaring at Daniel.

“Well, well, boys. You shouldn’t argue with each other.” Sherman said with a bright smile as he grabbed both of their shoulders. It seemed like the alcohol had boosted his natural friendly demeanor. “Let’s find a table and get some drinks.”

Soon everyone was sitting around a square table drinking beer. Accompanying them were two other sailors with whom Ainsley hadn’t talked much. Hages, the master gunner of the ship, and Slade, a boatman.

“Are you enjoying the night, Mr. Wilkins?” Hages asked. He was an old merfolk in his late fifties. The scars on his reddish bronze scales and the way he shaved his silver hair and beard suggested he had been in the navy for a number of years and the military discipline had stuck up with him.

“Yeah… this isn’t so bad.” Ainsley replied, slightly slurring his words. He appreciated the fact that nothing moved. After three weeks at sea he was tired of everything tossing and turning around him.

“Do you want another drink, Mr. Wilkins?” Slade offered Ainsley. He was a middle aged man in his thirties with tanned skin and prominent muscles.

Ainsley looked at his empty mug. “Yes, pour me another one.”

“Right now, Mr. Wilkins!” Slade exclaimed with a smile and poured Ainsley a drink in the fashion of a restaurant’s sommelier.

Ainsley though that poor attempt at refined manners didn’t suit the burly sailor, but he said nothing and just seeped his drink in silence.

Everyone was unwinding after the long journey at sea and soon all the ale was replaced by stronger drinks.

“Daniel! I don’t think you should be drinking spirits.”

“Oh, don’t be like that, Jack! You sound like my mom.”

“Yeah, let the boy drink, Jack” Slade said pouring Daniel another glass of clear liquor.

“Whoa! So good, these northfolk sure know how to make their drinks.” Hages exclaimed after gulping down the contents of his mug.

“Yeah, I can’t believe the captain almost didn’t let us come.” Sherman added with a blissful smile.

“Well, that’s because we have to depart early tomorrow…” Said Daniel in a sad tone.

“Oof, don’t sour the mood, mop boy.” Said Slade slapping Daniel on the back of his head. The young sailor rubbed his nape and stood silent with a downcast expression.

Seeing this Jack glared at Slade and rose from his chair ready to hit the boatman.

“Hey, let’s calm down.” Despite the drunken smile on his face Hages was quick to grab Jack and forced him back on his seat. “If you can’t hold your liquor I will send you back to the Polaris. And the same goes for you, Slade.” He added glancing at the boatman.

Jack looked up at Hages with a stern expression before turning to stare at Jack. “Alright, but if he hits Daniel again I’m gonna beat him up.”

Jack was completely serious, but Ainsley couldn’t help but doubt his ability to carry out his words. The middle aged boatman was a head and half taller than the lookout and his muscular arms rivaled the thickness of the slender body of the skyfolk.

“Oh, c’mon Jack. You know I care about the mop boy, it was only a joke.” Slade said with a smile as he put an arm around Daniel’s shoulder.

The rest of the evening passed without any incident and, after having finishing quite a few bottles of liquor, the six of them slowly slogged back to the ship. Among the group of unsteady men Ainsley could barely walk and relied on Hages to keep him on his feet. He didn’t remember drinking so much since his student days. He may have had a few too many refills of spirits, but that wasn't tonight’s Ainsley problem. He would let his morning self figure it out.