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	More than anything, Nazan was glad to be ashore. He’d never been on the open sea before and had the barest of experience in the seat of a riverboat. The waves rolled and churned his stomach as much as they did the ship, and Nazan spent the lion’s share of his time aboard heaving over the edge, or ducking down in the bowels of the vessel. Sea sickness was an enemy that a blade could not defeat. He took in a long breath as he stepped off the gangplank and his feet sunk into solid ground at last. 

	The shackles had been a small price to pay compared to the constant nausea onboard, but he disliked them all the same. They made sense for criminals and lowlives the Order forced into service, perhaps. But he was neither, at least by his definition. The Order had saved him from certain death and he’d come along willingly. Why did he need restraining? 

	Nazan flexed his arms as the bonds came off, feeling the life return to his hands. As he stretched, he took in his immediate surroundings. Haev didn’t make a particularly good impression. His glance was met with scowls and hushed whispers and the locals shut their windows or turned their backs on the new arrivals. Nazan wasn’t interested in them anyway. He looked forward to getting down to business, a decent meal and a night in a bed that didn’t toss and turn. 

	His disinterest became mild annoyance when they marched further into the port and the inhabitants got more vocal. They threw insults and jeers and Nazan’s ear picked up more than a few slurs meant for orisiri. He was sure the other, the woman, heard them too. 

	She hadn’t been in much mood to talk during the trip, not that Nazan’s stomach was willing to cooperate either. He’d been able to gather her name, Aelsu, and knew she was a plains orisiri. She had the bearing of a fighter, carried herself with the knowledge that she could break any of the jeering locals with her bare hands if it was up to her. Beyond that, anything was a guess. 

	The entire crew was diverse, all things considered. Just about every sapient species had a representation here, even the enigmatic star-fallen. There was more to the locals’ disapproval than that, but Nazan suspected it gave them all the more reason to hate them. 

	Eventually, the throng was ushered inside a large tent, wherein Captain Eros Vaughn introduced himself and gave a summary of their duties. The picture he painted was bleak. Why did the Order still try, when Weirn seemed like a lost cause? Certainly there were other places more accommodating, where the Order could do its business and not hamstring itself. Nazan didn’t pretend to understand. Without a supply line or outside assistance, this operation wouldn’t last. What happened then? Would the Order pull out and set them free elsewhere, or would it be content to leave them to whatever fate claimed them? 

	Either way, it wasn’t as if any of them were in a position to back out.

	“Agreed,” he said curtly.