[center][color=black]▬▬ι[/color]═══════ﺤ[h2][color=darkslateblue][b]K A Z U K I[/b][/color][/h2]৴═══════[color=black]ι▬▬[/color]
[h3][i][b]Cantarco Port > Guild Hall[/b][/i][/h3][hr][/center]
((I assumed since the last few posts were wrapping up the evening it would be okay for me to start out on the next morning. Let me know if there are any problems.))

The ship listed with each passing wave under its long keel, and as its weight shifted the salt sprayed planks creaked like the bones of a stubborn old man. Every so often, one of the crates in the cargo hold would slide across the floor or bump into a wall; but, nothing thus far had broken or bruised. Like as not, the catches of dried Sushifish, the clinking jars of Moga Honey, and the various other goods and tools would make Cantarco's small inlet port just fine. As the first rays of the morning sun spilled over the upper decks, the burly bronzed crew went to work bringing in the sails, deploying the oars, and preparing the trading galley to enter the much shallower shores near the mouth of the river. A motley collection of docks and piers, some surrounded by the smaller boats of the villagers, awaited to greet the much larger vessel; the port's landings had been constructed of what little quality lumber could be gathered on a volcanic island. Despite the fertile soil, the forested patches were limited to the edges of the ocean, pools, and rivers and could only stretch so far before the choking ash and smoke, and the heat from still-cooling flows of lava, twisted and dried them into little more than gnarled matchsticks. Aside from a few dark plumes near the fiery mountain's peaks, however, the sky was a clear and vast expanse so blue it could confuse the senses if one stared too long at the place where the heavens met the seas. 

Yet none of this could be seen from a particular bunk, down in the passengers' hold. The porthole had been covered with the small cot's blanket, and the door to the outer hall remained closed. The spartan interior revealed itself only by the light of a single tall, fat candle that burned with a calming scent of spring cherries. By its light, so too did another figure appear in flickering shadows. A young man, his dark colored hair tied into a tail that fell like water between his shoulders, sat on his heels in front of the candle. Both hands upon his knees, back straight, and eyes closed, he took in a deep breath and savored the incense as the tiny flame danced in a draft of ocean-scented air. His loose, dark colored, flowing robes rippled in the breeze, and then all was still.

Kazuki opened his eyes, and steel flashed in the darkness. In one sweeping motion he drew the blade from his back. Its length was such that he had to use one hand to grasp the hilt up high, near the guard over his shoulder, and the other to pull its sheath from the opposite side down past his waist. But in that same instant he rose to one knee and turned his hips, further aiding in the movement of the sword and adding to its speed. The strike cut through the air with a whistle, and at the end of its arc its tip hung frozen in the air. A heartbeat passed, and Kazuki glanced along the blade's gleaming edge.

The candle, its upper half resting flat atop the sword, still flickered. The barest hint of a smoke trail lingered, tracing a path back to the cleanly severed base. Kazuki tilted his wrist to bring it before him, and with the first breath he had let out for several long moments he extinguished the flame and plunged the room into total darkness. Not a moment too early, the door opened and a brighter light spilled into his room.

"Yo, young fella." hailed one of the sailors. "We've dropped anchor at last! Welcome to Cantarco!"

Kazuki nodded as he took the half-candle from where it had balanced on his weapon, and set it down next to its other half. From inside one sleeve he produced a white cloth that smelled faintly of oil, and wiped the wax from the sword before he returned it to the sheath. Though he blinked as his eyes adjusted to the light, he gave a slight but genuine smile of gratitude to the sailor as he rose up from the floor solely by using the balls of his feet. Moments later, his large beige-colored bag slung over his shoulder and numerous other bundles hanging from his belt, he disembarked and felt almost too heavy as he set foot once again on firm, unmoving land. He gazed around like any curious tourist as he made his way from the port to the village proper, but what really drew the townspeople's stares was the Long Sword on his back and the confident way he carried himself. He reached into the front of his robe and made sure his Guild Card still rested inside his breast pocket; it certainly was, with all his information freshly updated from before the ship had left Port Tanzia.

Unlike the docks, the village was built of sturdier materials; stone and bone, much more resistant to the heat, featured far more prominently in the construction of various shaped and sized huts, though their roofs were often of tanned hides stretched tight across frames and treated with water repelling oils. Kazuki had never been to Moga Village, at least not yet, but he imagined that it might be very similar to this place--small, out of the way, almost but not quite isolated from the rest of the world. Yet, perhaps because of these same qualities, it had a homey feel; the people who lived here probably considered all of their neighbors to be their extended family. He hoped an outsider like himself wouldn't be too ill-received.

With a few directions from helpful villagers, he made his way to the local Guild Hall, though really it looked like it might be a town hall in general. That wasn't unusual, as tiny places like this didn't really have any need for the spacious guild halls you would see in Val Habar, much less the monstrous Hunting communes around places like Loc Lac City. As he entered, shifting his bag over to the other shoulder so he could push the door open, his eyes quickly darted around. A Hunter had to take stock of everything in an environment the moment they entered it, whether it was a forest glade, a frozen cave, or the local pub. Especially that last one, depending on how much had been drunk that night.

A small Wyverian woman with an energetic nature belying her age struck him as either the Guild Master, or perhaps a local elder of some sort--she buzzed about as if everything was her business and she had a right to know all of it, so Kazuki guessed she probably did. An older man, still carrying around muscle that hadn't yet given way to age and bearing more than a few scars--though some had grown old enough to fade against his tanned hide--was sitting near the fire. Kazuki noted that his leg seemed most scarred of all, and from the way he sat the elder didn't seem to put much weight on it. A career-ending injury, then. Could this be the retiring hunter?

There were others as well, but though he took note of them Kazuki's senses didn't mark them as particularly notable--or at least, not as notable as the two old-timers. One had to follow the hierarchy, after all, and it was clear that a newcomer should probably introduce themselves to these two before ever presuming to announce their own presence and intentions as a Hunter.

[@LeamonZest89]"Good morning." Kazuki said as he approached [color=39b54a]Cyrus[/color]. He bowed at the waist, just deep enough that he wouldn't be disrespectful but not quite so deep as to lose his balance with all of his luggage. With his free hand he produced his Guild Card and held it out for the older man. "I am Kazuki of the Akibayashi family, a two-star Hunter. I heard that this village was in need, and came to offer my services. May I ask, is this the Guild Hall?"