The strong ocean winds blew against Reid, pulling and tugging at the hefty red cloak that hung over his shoulders and across his back. The black bear fur trim around the neck of the cloak was drenched in rain and salt water. Reid pressed his chilling hands against his ringing ears. The cold winds numbed and filled his ears with the sounds of crashing cold blue waves against the wooden dock and rocks that surrounded the harbour of Londor Bay.

Reid stared off at the fleet of galleon ships approaching in the far distance. They carried new families and lone settlers on the move to new possible futures in the rural coast. He scouted for flags and banners marking them part of the King's Fleet. He wasn't ready to leave.

"It's fucking cold out here," shouted Trevos Allant, an old friend and fisherman.

Reid turned, surprised to see another at the docks on such a stormy morning. Trevos Allant approached from behind and tapped him on the shoulder with a firm fist.

"It is, isn't it?" Reid smiled, "You've come to welcome the fresh faces, have you?"

"Fuck no," he smirked, "just checkin' what you're doing. I feel sorry for the shits that come here looking for a brighter future. It shows how bad off they had it before, you know?"

"Aye. But we've got proper houses for them here. We'll give 'em rights to their lands. I can't imagine living on the mainland. Not under Sansoran laws."

"And the fucking Dem'i," Trevos drunkenly shouted, as he poked Reid in the middle of his steel chest plate, "Those giant fucks. It's why I moved. It's why everyone moves here. None of them are going to come and drag my ass away from here."

Trevos Allant reeked of fermented ales and wine. His long black beard was braided at the tip with old silver hairs lining his long unkempt black hair.

Trevos was a burly man in his late forties who had worked hard his entire life fishing the Sansoran seas, and now had moved on to fishing the Aerendellian seas. Reid stared at his drunk comrade. Such a lifestyle left him drunk during his time on land, spending as much gold as he could before going off shore for weeks and months unsure if he would return.

"Trevos," Reid interrupted, "How often do you use that old sword strapped to your side."

"What'd you mean?" replied Trevos as he drew his rusted longsword from his scabbard.

"I'm looking for capable men to guard these walls if I ever leave. I want to know Londor Bay will be safe in my absence."

"That's why you're fucking here. One of these ships is for you, ain't it?" Trevos stared at Reid's pale grey eyes.

"Tell the King to fuck off if he's called upon you to do some of his dumb shit. He's a crazy kook anyways. Stares off into a mirror all day, I hear", he added, "Either vain or stupid."

Trevos reached into his satchel and pulled out a flask, "I'd be stupid too if I had a Dem'i near my chambers," he continued rambling on, while trying to finish the last drop of his ale.

Trevos' flask was decorated; engraved with drawings of the Spirits of the Deep. Reid decided to try and steer the conversation into a lighter matter.

"That's an excellent jug of ale. I've never seen one with such well done carvings. Those are each of the Sea Spirits, right?"

"Aye, I've got two of 'em. Pretty much the same work on both," he replied, admiring his work. "Not much to do on deck when the fish aren't there."

"Beautiful pair of jugs you've got, Trevos," Reid laughed.

"Talking about my fat tits now? Thanks, you bloody islander," he smiled, "Yeah, they are nice. It is known. And if you've got to know- they're also my ladies. They're what I've got when I leave home. Lissa, the Scaled Maiden, is my personal girl. See on the back side," Trevos flipped the flask around to show a carving of a young girl, "No Lady of the Deep is as hot as her."

The two men cackled with laughter.

"Yeah, if you're into a woman with fish-scaled tits," Reid joked.

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"When you're away from land as long as I am, you would be, Reid. You fucking go with what you get out there. When I touch shores... I'll mount anything that has tits. Scaled or not," he howled, leaning over laughing.

A woman of short stature walked towards the two giggling men. Her leather boots sunk into a deep puddle of filthy water, splashing the men. The two men looked over at her and down at the pothole-filled paths that Londor Bay called roads.

"What has you two laughing so hard?" chimed in Bree of Umberlith, a short girl in her late twenties with braided wild red hair and an odd single pointed ear on the left side of her head.

"Speaking of mounting, you ever get on that horse, Bree?" laughed the drunken Trevos, "last I saw was you stepping on top of the stable boy- reaching for your saddle."

"Oh, shut it," she smiled. "I get it. I'm bloody short, you salty drunkard. At least I'm not talking to my Lord about courting fish-girls."

"More than courting, my lady," chimed in Trevos with a wink.

"Here to greet the fresh faces, Lady Bree?" questioned Reid with a grin.

"Oh, come on, Reid. I can see you're holding back a laugh. You two are worse than toddlers. And no, Trevos, you won't be bedding a Loon tonight," she smiled looking in the opposite direction.

Reid smiled as she finished her sentence. A Loon was another name for Lunarei, thought Reid. It was funny that she used such a word. The Lunarei hated that name, but men continued to say it. Perhaps because it was easier to say in the common tongue. It mostly found its uses in insults and slander towards the Lunarei.

Reid glanced over at Bree as she turned away, peering off into the horizon.

Bree had a small dainty nose and dimples in her rosy cheeks when she smiled. Her long pointed ear was masked mostly by the hair she grew longer to one side, while her round ear stood out visible. She was the only case of a half-blood with two different ears that Reid had heard of.

She had a faint scar that cut through her eyebrow and across her right eye and beautiful markings along her neck, face, and both her arms and legs. These markings were white ink tattoos- traditional designs and symbols of the Lunarei. A large crescent moon marked her forehead proudly displaying her heritage to all, even though she was only a half-blood.

Bree was a short, slender lady with a feisty attitude- she chose to cast insults rather than to fight. Lunarei were known to be tall, lanky, beautiful and deadly so her appearance brought much confusion to the mainlanders who met Bree as their first Lunarei.

"Why don't we all get an early meal. I've got the coins on me. Those ships won't dock harbour for another hour or so," offered Reid as he reached for his coins in his satchel.

"You legendary man. Can't say no to an offer like that."

The Gilled Lass was the closest of the many taverns in the port town. It offered a fine grilled salmon topped with fried peppers and boiled eggs but not much else besides ales and brews.

Reid, Bree and Trevos entered through the heavy wooden doors. The tavern was rather bare during the mornings.

Women's undergarments were left on the table during the previous night. The three sat down at the only table that had a lit candle. Trevos leaned over to examine the undergarments as if he could recognize who they belonged to. Bree brushed them off of the table and looked up at Reid.

"Oh, lovely," she spoke with a faked smile.

"You should of been 'er, Bree. It was a wild one," huffed Trevos as drew up a rolled smoke, lighting it with the candle, "it's part of the reason they call this tavern The Great Arse."

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Last chapter for tonight. That was quite the long one compared to the others. :)

Time to sleep ~

Hope you guys enjoy it!