Cliffhome was a coastal town located in the northern part of Thricehaven, serving as a homestead to the Numina Unbat. Sea gates closed in the port around the city adorned with flags bearing the symbol of the Builder of Thaumaturgy, a spiral with two closed eyes located in the center. Despite not being wanted in this city, we docked south of the town outside of prying eyes. Aramaz had no established temples here, but that did not mean the god had no influence.

"Time to disembark," Captain Sprin advised while lowering the dingy to the water below. "Can't take too long now, don't want the locals getting curious."

"What's next for you, Captain?" Bert asked, dropping a satchel full of books to Gemma, awaiting in the boat below.

"We'll head down the coast to look for work now that we've got this beaut," Sprin slapped the ship's railing. "We shouldn't have any issues finding jobs."

"Why not try Cliffhome?" Leif asked.

The three crew members shared a look before replying.

"It's not like we don't appreciate you all..." Reika started.

"You just tend to..." Callin continued.

"We don't want to be here when this place turns into a warzone," Sprinkle spat.

"Warzone?" Nev asked.

"You guys have a track record..." Reika replied.

"I was grateful it didn't happen in Freesport, but I'd be lying if I said I wasn't worried," Callin said.

"This is just a peace visit, guys," I replied. "I have some friends living here that reached out to me. We're going to use this time to lay low."

The three laughed at my response as the Captain slapped me across the back. I briefly considered breaking down the ship but realized that would only help prove their point.

"Fine, fine," I replied. "We'll get out of your hair."

"Wait," Captain Sprin replied, standing in front of me. "I owe you, Mercy, you and your friends."

The Captain stuck his hand out between us. The months since our last meeting at been rough for the bipedal feline. Grey hair replaced much of the orange that once surrounded his face. But his eyes still held the manic drive I noticed when I first met the man. I clutched his hand and pulled him closer, wrapping my other arm around his back as he did the same.

Stolen story; please report.

"Stay safe, Captain."

"You couldn't make me if you tried," he laughed.

As I helped load the boat from below, I saw Nev and Sprin have their goodbye moment. Strangely enough, the Captain kept gesturing toward the lower boat during their talks, and Nev turned a brighter red than I'd ever seen on them before. As Callin rowed us out to the shore Sprin and Reika waved from above deck.

Rain poured heavily in and around the town, as apparently, it often did. The city was aptly named as hills and mountains that receded away from the sea were lined with roads and dotted with doors and tunnels. A line of mountains surrounded the city's perimeter with tunnels carved through the stone to allow access into the city. All it took was showing our respective Voyaging League tokens to get through the city's gates.

I wasn't too keen on the adventuring part of the Voyaging League, but the perks were too valuable to pass up. Voyagers could receive access to almost every town and city, skipping over the hassle of bribes or bureaucracy. Access to private vendors and artisans meant getting your first pick of exclusive items and materials with a substantial Voyager discount. Loyalty to other Voyagers could be a hassle. Still, the protection from this deal had undoubtedly saved us many times over the past several months from Aramaz fanatics and bounty hunters alike.

As we headed into the town, I spotted a clothing shop and pressured the others to allow me to stop briefly. With their consent, I entered the shop. Above the door was a large sign with a spool of yarn that read Tenz's. Behind the counter, an older man nodded at my entering, then turned back to his work, sewing lining to the inside of a jacket.

The shop was relatively simple, two shelves partially filled with simple trousers and tunics, hooded cowls hung from the walls in various sizes, and one rack toward the back of the shop that held loose cloth. I assumed that was for shop use.

"What are you looking for?" The shopkeep asked.

"Just looking," I replied, reminded of impatient shop clerks from my previous life.

"Where are you coming from?" The man asked, now fully turning away from his work.

"Freesport," I replied, watching my words. "How did you know I wasn't local?"

"Locals use aquin," he said, gesturing to the rack of loose fabric I noticed earlier. "Keeps the rain from soaking through your clothes."

"Oh, it's hydrophobic," I replied, rubbing the fabric between my fingers. "Could I buy some off of you?"

"You a craftsman?"

"I'm a tailor," I replied, causing me to pause for a moment. "Or I was a tailor."

It hit me fully at that moment. I had been running for so long from place to place, forced to be something I didn't want to be. I chose to be a tailor, but Salinel forced me to be an arsonist instead. That jumped to a traveler, outlaw, slave, thief, adventurer, and back to outlaw again. In my former life, I had my choices taken away. Aggressive corporate capitalism stole my family business and my purpose for living. Reborn here, I had another chance, but one I quickly lost. I don't know if it's possible for me to simply be a tailor any longer, but I deeply understood there was something that I wanted more. The people I love have dreams and goals, and I can manifest their aspirations and stop those trying to take their dreams away.

"I'll take a spool of the aquin," I replied after contemplating. "And do you know where I can find Hood Parcels?"