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After a most joyous skim across the pond, Thomas was ready for a sauna, a bath, and a good nap. Unfortunately, as with most wants in the world, these would have to wait. As soon as the gangplank dropped for passengers to disembark the ship, Thomas' senses were assaulted. The smell and sounds of a well-used wharf, seemingly held back by an invisible wall, finally washed over him. The scents of decomposing fish and vegetation, the stinging in his eyes and cheeks of hot industrial oils, as well ...

Two months, two weeks, and three days after slipping its lines and sailing away from its wet dock in the East, the lumbering ship had finally pulled back into port. This time, however, it was docking in Ynnis, Itona. Standing tall near the bow braving the morning chill, Thomas Clear was gripping the railing with excitement and definitely not the crushing effort of staving off the seasickness that had been haunting his trail across the ocean for the last two months. His face was turned windwar...