Maya’s crew exchanged amused glances as they watched the small dockmaster stride away and disappear into a small building at the far end of the dock. Humbol turned to them, stretching his arms out proudly.

“See? I said it was impossible to get into Greenhill without me,” he said.

“I don’t know, it sort of seems like all we had to do was give the man a gold coin,” Cyll observed.

“That might have worked,” Humbol allowed. “Or they might have sunk you on arrival. Who knows? Besides, then you would have wasted a gold coin.”

“I’m pretty sure the ring you just gave him was worth more than a gold,” Maya said.

“Of course it wasn’t,” Humbol said. “The ring was fake. Now, come on. The docks smell, and my clothes will never recover if the stench sets in.”

Maya had to agree with the strange pirate. Greenhill’s docks weren’t the worst smelling ones she’d been in, but they certainly weren’t the best.

“I’ll stay here to watch the boats,” Patty said. “How long will you be gone?”

“We’ll only be an hour or two,” Humbol said, turning and starting towards the city.

When he realized that Maya and Cyll weren’t following him, the man turned around and raised an eyebrow. The captain exchanged a glance with her crewmate, then shrugged and started after him. Cyll fell in line behind her.

“Why are we following this joker? Shouldn’t we ditch him now that we got to the city?” Cyll whispered.

“Our passage through the gate seems temporarily tied to him,” Maya whispered back. “Besides, do you have any better ideas? At least it looks like he knows the city. Just…keep an eye on him. We need to figure out what he’s playing at.”

Cyll let out a noncommittal grunt. The two of them let Humbol lead them away from the docks and into the inner city.

Greenhill wasn’t unlike Ashwind. The roads were small and packed, with square wood and stone buildings forming dozens of alleyways. It was rather clean, although there were still bits of trash scattered across the ground and concentrated within the alleyways.

A large mansion rose at the far side of the city, right beside where the sea gate was. It was large enough to see, even from the docks. However, every other house seemed to be approximately the same size.

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“Where are we headed?” Maya asked Humbol.

“The market, of course,” Humbol replied, not even bothering to glance back at them. “Aside from a brothel, is there anywhere else worth visiting in a city?”

Maya rolled her eyes and didn’t grace him with a response. A short walk later, the three of them broke free of the narrow roads and arrived in a small market. It was probably the smallest market that Maya had ever seen in a city.

There were around ten or fifteen wagons laid out in a small clearing surrounded by houses. Bored merchants idly watched the thin crowd or chatted amongst themselves.

“Do they have food?” Cyll asked, his face brightening.

“Nothing worth your time,” Humbol said, killing the other man’s excitement before it could get going. “I mentioned it before, but Greenhill only has one valuable commodity, and that’s the sea gate. Everything else here is substandard at best, but it can be a decent time killer.”

“Even their brothels?” Cyll asked, chuckling.

“Especially their brothels,” Humbol replied, his brow lowering slightly. He caught sight of a vendor selling colorful cloth and his eyes lit up. “Oh, look!”

The bejeweled pirate dashed over to the cart and started picking through the cloth.

“We should find a spyglass somewhere,” Cyll said, giving Humbol one final, suspicious glance before turning his attention to Maya.

“He might have one,” Maya said, nodding towards a vendor whose cart bore what appeared to be an assortment of seafaring items and gadgets. “But… did Humbol seem weird for a moment there?”

“When has he not been weird?” Cyll asked, giving her a shrug. The two of them made their way over to the merchant and Cyll started browsing the wares.

“Fair point,” Maya said. “But he seemed like a different kind of weird.”

The merchant glanced up at them as they shuffled through the objects on the table, but he didn’t say anything. Cyll finally found a rather old looking spyglass in the pile and pulled it free with a triumphant grunt. He inspected it for a few moments, holding the piece up to his eye and shaking it slightly.

“Seems to be functional,” Cyll said. “They look just like they used to. How much is this?”

The merchant let out a heavy sigh. He held up a three fingers with one hand and extended the other, palm up.

“Three silver?” Maya guessed.

The merchant gave them the slightest of nods. Cyll raised one eyebrow and removed the requested coins from a small leather pouch, one of the few remaining intact pieces of gear on his body. He plopped the coins in the man’s hand.

The merchant immidately returned his attention to the floor, avoiding further eye contact with them. The two left, sharing an amused glance, and made a slow loop around the rest of the market.

Humbol had moved on by the time they reached the cloth merchant. His demeanor, like the first man, was exhausted at best. Luckily, he had several sets of hardy clothes that would hopefully last longer than the previous set. Slowly, as if it caused him physical pain, the man took several measurements from both Maya and Cyll.

“They’ll be done tomorrow,” The man said, flopping back down and rubbing the bridge of the nose. “You can collect them anytime after sunrise. And don’t worry, that’s before the sea gate raises.”

Cyll plopped several silver coins onto the counter. The merchant left them there, giving them a dismissive wave. Maya and Cyll walked away, their confusion growing.

Maya spotted Humbol at the far corner of the market, talking to a young female merchant. They headed towards him, passing several other shoppers in the process. Every single one of them adverted their gaze, looking anywhere but towards the pirates.

“What in the four seas is wrong with this town?” Maya muttered.