« [i]Square [/i]» said a scruffy middle-aged man as he put down a Jack of Spades on a weathered wood table around which sat three others in discoloured moth holed clothes.
A young man, balancing on the rear legs of his chair, his cards held close to his chest turn to the old man. “[i]Dammit fella, I’m going to start tak…[/i]”.

The distant sound of a fog horn interrupted his speech. He let himself fall forward and slapped his deck on the table. The old man picked up one of the candles by which light they played in this dilapidated shack and lit a pair of oil lanterns before heading out the door.

Walking down the pier, followed by his colleagues, he spotted the imposing silhouette of a carrack sitting atop the bay’s foggy surface. Orange lights moved back and forth on top of the black shape of the three-mast ship. The old man raised his lamp above his head and waived it. One of the ships lights blinked as to communicate it had spotted the stevedores who in return placed their lamps as to signal the piers’ limits.
The carrack slowly glided towards the shore until its keel hit the stone wall with a soft thud.

Wooden soles clanked on the main bridge, closing on the guard rail until a lamp popped out from the side of the ship. Holding it was a man in a long black and yellow plaid frock coat with a braided brown beard.

“[i]Ooh crap. Fuck. We didn’t hit anything important did we? I can’t see shit in that bloody weather.[/i]”
“[i]That might be because you’re five fucking hours late and it’s fucking night.[/i]”
“[i]It’s a blasted ship, what am I supposed to do? Blow on the sodding sails?[/i]”
“[i]Don’t set a fucking appointment if you’re not going to fucking show on fucking time, fuck dammit.[/i]”

Behind the captain, two men lowered a ramp from the ship.
“[i]So you’re going to do your bloody job or what?[/i]”

Two of the stevedores rolled with a large ornate cart onto the pier with great difficulty as sailors started to pile up large crates.
As they started loading the cart the loud sound of heavy steps resounded across the ship’s hull.

The wood creaked and the ship wobbled under the weight. The stevedores surprised looked up at the ship froze with terror. A dragon stood in front of them, dressed in sapphire blue scales. It was the size of an elephant and had the silhouette of a lion. Its tail, almost as long as the rest of its body, ended with an arrowhead shaped bony plate. A faint glow came off from its eyes, nostrils, mouth and its foot long teeth. Horns twice as long projected up and out of its skull, slanting backwards slightly. The beast twisted and arched its neck and spine, pushed it's shoulder blades together as it stretch every muscle of its body, its respiration sounding like the grinding of a quern-stone. 

An enormous cloaked figure walked up to its side and tapped it on the back. A black haired, grey skinned Talosian, nine feet tall and three feet across the shoulders, dressed in continental fashion, a long black tunic covering puffy linen pants stuffed into a pair of scraped leather boots. The sailors standing next to him barely reached his waist.

“[i]Huuah![/i]” he moaned in an unnaturally deep voice as he stretched his arms out above his head.
“[i]Master Wilhelm, please take a seat, your personal effects will be unloaded shortly.[/i]”
The Talosian stared at the captain for a second in somewhat annoyed disbelief before crouching to grab at the net wrapping around the largest crate on the bridge and with a swing throwing it over his shoulder, walking down the ramp and slamming it onto the cart.


As he turned his gaze to the city, Wilhelm found two dismounted knights in white armour and draped in purple capes standing silent at the pier’s entrance, waiting to escort him away. Above them was the black figure of a one hundred and fifty feet tall keep that overlooked this portion of the docks.