A fine layer of snow fell over the lands that surrounded the port city known as Vonder, blanketing the sparse remaining patches of frozen earth and greyed, withering grass across the snowfields in a deepening layer of loose white powder. Vast Coniferous forests encroached on the northern and western borders of the fields, their tops lightly dusted with snowfall from the jagged mountain peaks beyond. Skirting the cities eastern flank was the winding body of the Orsaeda river, it’s mouth opening to let warmer waters carried from the Vi’har oasis to the north mingle with the frigid southern arm of the Adros sea on the cities southmost side. Rafts of ice broken from the frozen wastes drifted northward past the city's sizable docklands before melting in the warmer water, never quite gaining a foothold in the south most ice-free port on Tor’Saarns east coast, even as the autumn slowly matured into winter.
Drifting along the coast were an uncountable variety of ships that came from every corner of the world. Some headed up the Orsaeda, carrying goods to Mar’Kiim city, where they would be distributed from Tierdun’s eastmost capital throughout the nation and beyond. Others ferried goods away from the kingdom to the myriad of nations across east Tor’Saarn and the rest of the continent. Of all ships that passed in and out of Vonder’s port a solitary ship stood out from the others, the single example of its make in the harbour. It’s form was not unlike any other brigandine seen in the east, it had two decks, a pair of square-rigged masts and eight ors on both of the vessels' flanks. What made the ship stand apart were its color and size. The vessel's form was smaller than one would expect from a ship of it’s make, as if made for inhabitants that were smaller than Tor’Saarn's other inhabitants and it was made from an unpainted, ghostly white wood hewed from Aerustan Spruce trees that outshone even the snow around it. The ship's mast was rigged with sails bluer than the tropical seas of the Faeren straits, the otherwise solid color was broken by fine veins of silver.
The ship glided silently into port, where it was awaited by a contingent of armed guards clad in a lustrous blue-silver armor over amber colored shirts and shin-length tunics. Amongst the soldiers were both the Jackal-like people known as the Ja’goroan and lightly tanned humans descended from Tiorathan stock. These soldiers stood vigilant behind a line of three men, two Ja’goroan standing on either side of a human. The human’s skin bore the same faint brown hue of his Tiorathan descended kinsman and his hair was a deep brown, coming to a slight fringe at the front that framed his narrow face and similarly colored eyes. He wore a well-made hide shirt and pants that contrasted with the vibrant orange of his short cape, a single piece of fabric that hung over his left shoulder down to his waist, held in place by a blue-silver pauldron of Cold-forged Steel. The Jagoroan to each of his side stood a head or so taller than the human and were clad in similar apparel, however the dog-man to his right wore a brass circlet on his head in the shape of a wreath. The man in the middle stood tall with his head back and his left arm at his flank, while his right nervously toyed with the hilt of a newly forged sword, it’s silvery-blue blade moving in response at his side, thin sheets of ice slothing off of the weapon.
“What is the matter, Sabrin?” said the grey furred man on his left, his fangs bared as a wry smile formed at the corners of his snout. “Are you having trouble with your new blade? Perhaps Cold-forged Steel was a poor choice for you after all, maybe you would be more comfortable with a more familiar metal, Tiorathan Steel perhaps?” A cruel glint shone behind the dog-man's eyes as his smile widened further. “Enough, Ra’Dem!” The elder man to Sabrin’s right barked, his voice lowering to a faint growl as he turned to his compatriots and narrowed his brow. Flecks of silver could be seen amongst his black fur. “Sabrin has proven more than loyal, he has as much right to wear that steel as either of us. The smile quickly disappeared from the younger Ja’goroan’s face as panic filled his yellow eyes. “Of course Lord Kiim! I did not intend any offence nor desire to make any unsavory implication…” Ra’Dem’s once still hands began to fidget nervously in front of him.
Sabrin removed a gloved hand from the hilt of his blade. “Lost for words, Radem” He chuckled. “I figure you may lose that silken tongue of yours long before I would brandish another steel, kinsmen.” Ra’Dem’s brows furrowed as his eyes narrowed into slits. “And by this do you mean” “Only to warn you, brother, that your particular brand of humor is best kept amongst friends!” Sabrin cut him off. “Of course, brother, I would expect nothing else”. Ra’Dem pouted. “Sabrin is right, it is best that you manage your impulses around our guests. The Kiari of Aerust are a deeply… traditional people by nature, even more so than their Kin in Qianna and Bevrasten, and not usually prone to chattering with foreigners”. The lord then turned his eyes to the human, his voice softening slightly as he spoke “Is something bothering you, young Melevar?” “Nothing, My liege. Just jitters”. He dismissed his elders' concern.
After only moments a sturdy wooden board was lowered from the vessel’s starboard side, a small ploom of powdery snow lifting into the air as the object met the frost-encrusted dark boards of the dock...
