10th of Flamerule 1374 DR: Morning
A sea voyage was never an inexpensive affair. A person of little means seeking passage aboard a ship could borrow, serve beside the crew or attend a wealthy passenger. A lucky few sailed with the blessing of a sponsor such as a crusading church or a center of learning sending forth finders of lore. However a traveler arrived one worry preyed on the thoughts of many as the white walls looming above the cliffs heralded the limit of their journey. They were also near the end of their resources.
The citadel stood isolated against its backdrop. Mountains to the west and to the northeast. But its docks crawled with activity. Ships berthed and lowered their ramps. Dock hands ran to unload their cargo. Darting among the crates, men and women wearing pale blue vests with the image of an evenly balanced scale upon their backs. Merchants watched nervously and wiped their brows whenever a laden wagon lumbered from the quay. Soldiers were very much in evidence observing the wharf and a more distant row of warehouses.
There were other passengers slinking away from the ships. Some armored, bearing arms and looking humbled amid lines of their ilk. Sighing relief as they veered toward a stone plaza with the streets of the city in sight beyond it. At every corner of a square pavilion signboards under a picturesque coat of arms (a ship borne on the waves) held a pronouncement etched in bronze plate. It was tedious reading in Common.