Parallel leaves the general store and a dwarf grumbling about how long it takes nowadays for the guard to arrive, and joins up with the rest of the group.
OOC:
Anyone that felt so inclined to visit the kitchen gets a crock of seafood stew/chowder
The street to the docks runs past several homes before it switches back upon itself down to the harbor. There, merchant buildings and stalls dominate the road, pressed together to take advantage of any available space. Already a crowd of locals have gathered to browse the daily catch from fishmongers and local produce from grocers, while other vendors cater trinkets and sundries.
As you walk through the market, you see a pair of leather-clad individuals in matching uniforms, each armed with a shortsword and bearing the insignia of a winged talon; the mark of the Eglar Eagles, the local guard. This pair, a human man and woman, stand at a T-intersection keeping an eye on the crowd. You walk across their gaze, but the guards make no move to stop you, nor do they seem that interested in your passing.
You find yourselves at the harbor. The commercial section of the docks sees the most activity at this hour as cargo ships unload a variety of goods, and a steady procession of porters on foot or in wagons and carts haul these materials to warehouses or other destinations. A hubbub of calls between hoist-and-winch operators and longshoremen on deck combine with captains' orders to their crews to create a hectic miasma of noise.
Standing out amidst this chaos, positioned centrally before the warehouses, is a raised platform upon a stone base. There is a table behind a low wooden banister covered by a canvas awning, and behind it are three individuals that seem unfazed by the din surrounding them. Two are clad in chain mail and closed-face helmets, and armed with crossbows and long blades. This pair flank a seated dark-robed individual with an elongated reptilian snout colored as white as the ocean froth visible from beneath the raised cowl.
A large tapestry hangs against the front face of the stone, colored a bright crimson edged in black. In the middle of this tapestry is a circle of inwardly-facing sharp teeth, with elongated maxillary and mandibular canines. This image, reminiscent of a dragon's open maw, is the royal crest of Caer Tan.
Deducing that a chartered vessel would not be amongst the commercial ships, you head in the opposite direction where smaller, yet longer docks hold several boats of varied size and make. There isn't much of a crowd here, and the few individuals you do see appear to come and go from a small shanty nearby. A sign above the door reads in Common, "Harbormaster."
