Swaying back and forth, the passenger liner cut through the storm and drew close to the lighthouse.
A modest-sized port emerged through the dark curtain of rain, coming into view of the captain, the sailors, and the passengers.
Before long, a man in his thirties wearing a blue uniform, holding a black umbrella, and carrying a glass lantern appeared on the dock, directing the liner to its berth with somewhat unpracticed movements.
"Hey, fellas! Where are you from?" the man shouted at the top of his lungs as he watched the gangway being lowered.
After being mostly swallowed by the wind and rain, his voice finally made it inside the ship and into Alfred's ears.
"Do any of you know what this place is?" Alfred glanced cautiously at his adjutant and attendant.
He wasn't wearing his general's dress uniform, instead draped in the kind of black overcoat common in
The adjutant, whose hair was neatly combed back, first shook his head to indicate he had no idea, then explained: "The storm earlier knocked us off course."
At that moment, the captain came over to the ship's railing, umbrella in hand, and called back to the man: "We departed from East Balam two days ago and had the misfortune of running into a storm.
"What port is this?"
The man's eyes shifted slightly. Rather than answering directly, he raised his voice: "Just wait a moment."
He immediately turned around, holding up his umbrella and carrying the lantern, and ran toward the cluster of buildings near the dock.
This reaction caught Alfred and the other passengers somewhat off guard, though for the captain and first officer—men seasoned in maritime travel—it was nothing unusual. They had encountered far too many irregular incidents at ports along the Sea of Storms route. As a result, they waited with considerable patience for what would happen next.
After roughly five or six minutes, the man came jogging back accompanied by a young woman.
The woman had no umbrella. She wore a hooded raincoat that had been smeared with Doninsman tree sap.
The two approached the passenger liner and, under the watchful eyes of the armed sailors, made their way step by step up the gangway to the deck.
At this distance, the majority of the passengers could finally make out their faces.
The man had brown hair and brown eyes, with rough skin—clearly a lower-class individual who had endured years of wind and rain. The woman was in her early twenties, with lake-green eyes and a head of flaxen hair, a few damp locks hanging against her face, lending her an air that was at once innocent and alluring.
She was quite the beauty, with a wild, untamed aura.
"Everyone, this is the port of
As he spoke, he broke into a grin, clearly pleased with himself for having invented such an impressive-sounding title.
The captain certainly knew what the so-called "temporary port commander" meant, and he paid no mind to the little man's sudden elation.
He furrowed his brow slightly and said: "Utopia Port? I've never heard of it."
Theodore glanced at him and replied: "I've heard that line many times.
"Hmph, if not for that ass-kicking storm, you lot might never have come here for your entire lives!"
Before he could say more, the woman cut in: "Utopia isn't on the safe shipping routes. Normally, only those who know these waters and know the ship would come here to resupply."
The implication was that the port's main users were pirates? The captain was not one to miss the unspoken meaning, and in such moments, tactfully not pointing it out was a form of mutual protection.
He gave a noncommittal "Mmm" and asked: "And you are?"
"
She cast a look around and said: "The storm is fierce, and the ship will be very rocky. Staying here to rest is not a very wise choice. The inn can provide you with stable beds, ample hot water, clean food, warm blankets, and an environment that will remind you of home. It's only ten pence per night per room.
"Besides that, you can enjoy hearty drinks and warm hospitality at the adjacent bar."
It was quite clear that this woman was here to drum up business.
The captain remained vigilant and did not respond to her directly, instead nodding and saying: "I cannot make decisions for the passengers. How they choose is their freedom. As captain, however, I will be staying here with my crew."
Tracey maintained her smile and said: "I will be at the inn, waiting for any passengers willing to disembark."
She seemed to be somewhat educated, not like the fiery but foul-mouthed women the sailors encountered in other ports, all curse words and hot temper.
As Tracey half-turned to leave, Theodore sidled up to her, his face split in a sycophantic grin.
"You should thank me. I told you first, didn't I?"
As he spoke, his right hand slapped down onto Tracey's backside and gave it a vicious squeeze.
*Pa!*