The Nightshatter glided up to Seranovia's sprawling harbor. Roy stood at the helm, watching as the city's white towers rose across the horizon. Dozens of ships dotted the waterfront, but none came close to the Nightshatter's hulking silhouette. It drew immediate stares from the wharf workers and local passersby.
As soon as the crew extended the gangplank, a small throng of onlookers crept closer. Roy made out hushed comments.
"That must be the… 'Slave Master' with his iron whale."
"I heard he fired thunderbolts at entire fleets!"
"Do you see any slaves chained up on board?"
Roy suppressed a groan. He'd hoped their time in Seranovia might begin more calmly, but rumors always lingered wherever they went. Eryndra, arms folded at his flank, noticed the crowd's trepidation. "They look ready to run the moment we step down."
Orden, perched on the railing, grinned at the spectacle. "They seem scared. Should I wave? Maybe that'll help." He lifted a small, cheerful hand.
Roy chuckled. "I guess a goofy looking kid might ease their worries." He took a steadying breath, then strode forward onto the gangplank, Eryndra and Orden right behind him. At first, the crowd flinched. But Roy lifted both hands in a friendly gesture. "Slave Master? Please. Such a pedestrian title. My friends," he gestured to the ship, "call me a 'Philanthropic Purveyor of Unsolicited Freedom.' It's a bit of a mouthful, I know, but it's far more accurate."
A dockhand near the front cupped his hands and yelled, "...Is that a yes or a no to being a slave master?"
Roy's smile thinned. "Of course it's a no! I've spent over twenty thousand gold coins freeing slaves." His voice carried over the pier. "We buy chains to break them, not to wear them."
One bold onlooker, an older woman in a green tunic, piped up, "You're the one they said rides an iron demon-ship. And you command an army of 'metal golems'—"
"My golems are just metal helpers," Roy corrected, trying to sound lighthearted. "And… we're here on guild business, hopefully. No pillaging or slavery involved. Promise."
A few among the gathering crowd traded uneasy glances. Some murmured that he might be telling the truth; others retreated further along the docks. Still, the tension was obvious.
Eventually, a dock officer took a cautious step forward. "Are… are you docking for peaceful trade?"
Roy nodded. "Yes, exactly. My crew is large, but we won't cause trouble." His voice carried a rehearsed calm he'd used many times before. "We simply want to see Seranovia. Maybe register with the guild, if they'll have us."
Silence stretched out. Then the officer cleared his throat, offered a small bow, and gestured the crowd away. "All right, but we'll be… watching," he said, a nervous quake in his tone.
Roy offered a half-smile. "Fair enough."
The deck soon bustled as the rest of Roy's people disembarked in small groups. Lutrian guided some base-model presidroids, Warrex strolled beside him, arms folded in mild curiosity, and Takara stomped along behind them, occasionally shooting glances at Roy. Maelara and Zehrina emerged too.
Roy turned to the bigger group. "All right, folks. This city's enormous. The plan is to split up and check out the place. If we need to rendezvous, we have comms. No blowing anything up… please." He gave a pointed look to Eryndra, who smirked in return.
Orden hopped down from a barrel, hugging Roy's side. "I'm going with you, right?"
Roy chuckled, "Yes, you. And, since I am running low on patience, I've got one more slot."
Eryndra and Takara exchanged a swift glance. Takara was quicker to step forward. "Me, obviously. Who else do you trust more?" She planted her hands on her hips.
Eryndra shot her a slight grin. "Don't count me out yet. I outrank you in, oh, everything." She took a step in close, so their noses nearly touched. Takara flinched but refused to back down.
An electric tension rose between them, so thick you could almost smell the ozone. Warrex muttered under his breath to Lutrian, "If Roy doesn't pick fast, one of them is going to end up in the harbor."
Roy coughed loudly. "Points to Eryndra for bravado, by the way. Sorry, Takara, maybe tomorrow?"
Takara's face contorted in protest. "What? She—" But Eryndra cut her off with a triumphant smirk.
Orden snickered, jumping up to pat Takara's shoulder. "If you hurry, you can join Lutrian's group." In response, Takara stormed off, though her heated expression suggested she might tag along behind them in a sulky mood.
"I'll keep an eye on her," Lutrian whispered to Roy. Then, in a louder voice, "All right, Warrex, Takara, let's check out the town's food services. Presidroids, carry small backpacks for trading, no need for heavy loads today."
Warrex shrugged. "Fine. Let's go. No meltdown, Takara."
She growled quietly but fell in step with them, disappearing into the city's winding side streets.
Maelara and Zehrina lingered at the edge of the wharf, watching Roy and his chosen companions move off. "I assume you felt that hostility just now… I guess we're trailing them, huh?"
Zehrina gave a faint shrug, her eyes shifting from Roy's retreating figure to the harbor's bustle. "I suppose it won't hurt to stay close… just in case."
They set off discreetly, weaving through bystanders with as much quiet grace as a bodybuilding elf girl could muster.
Roy led Orden and Eryndra down a broad cobblestone avenue that spanned Seranovia's waterfront. Grand marble arches flanked the streets. Grids of charming shops loomed on either side, each with polished signs and intricate stone carvings. The city's cleanliness struck Roy first. No rancid smells or open trash piles like so many other places he'd seen.
"This place is… fancy," Orden remarked, wide-eyed. "Reminds me of the capital in that one story we read, Roy."
Eryndra flicked her gaze around warily, half expecting trouble from the suspicious townsfolk who still passed them in the street, shooting glances at the "Iron Whale" visitors. But no one dared approach them directly.
Roy's mind whirled with the new environment. "First time we've been to a major city that wasn't half-destroyed or run by maniacs," he muttered. "Kinda refreshing."
A cluster of uniformed city guards stepped aside to let them pass. Roy gave them a polite nod. One guard grunted, seemingly recognizing him, but didn't confront him. They marched on.
At a corner bazaar, the trio stopped by an array of stalls selling magic trinkets and potions. Eryndra eyed a shelf of glittering amulets, brows raised. Orden hovered at a booth where a musician rang crystal chimes, every note called a different color into the air, suspended in charged powders that held shape long after the sound died. Roy gently steered Orden away.
A flamboyant merchant beckoned them closer. "Welcome, travelers from the Iron Whale, yes? Charms that repel sharks or the undead, very practical, very safe."
Roy gave a polite grin, skimming the wares. "Looking for something small, souvenir-type." His gaze caught a tray of sea-creature figurines, each one intricately carved. A serpent coiled around a tiny gem that pulsed with a soft inner light, a swordfish wore a sliver of inlaid crystal like a fin.
Eryndra snorted. "It's cute. Does it do anything worth a damn?"
"It resonates with the holder's mana," the merchant said, mustache twitching. "Purely decorative, but it glimmers in different shades. Very tasteful."
Roy reached for the serpent and the swordfish.
Both detonated the instant his fingers brushed them, a clean white flash and a crack like a snapped icicle. Shards of crystal pinged off the stall canopy, glitter dust sprayed across the counter, and a thin ribbon of smoke curled up from Roy's palm. The merchant yelped and threw his hands over his head. Eryndra blinked, then slowly turned to stare at Roy.
Orden burst out laughing. "Mana overload," he said between cackles. "Your field spiked the resonance. You cooked them before they even had a chance to glow."
Roy shook glitter from his sleeve. "Fantastic. I have the touch of death for gift shop trinkets." He flipped a gold coin across the counter. "Payment for the fireworks." He slid four extra copper coins after it. "And for two replacements."
Eryndra leaned in, voice dry. "Lutrian is going to be mad that you're overpaying again."
"Lutrian's financial lectures are suspended until we get back to the ship. We're on vacation. Let's not ruin it with responsible spending," Roy whispered.
The merchant's eyes flickered between the money and the scorch mark on the tray, tears welling up with joy.
"Bag two," Roy said, holding his hands conspicuously behind his back. He tipped his chin toward his crew. "You two pick them up. I am not touching anything."
Orden, grinning, lifted a new serpent by the tail and it glimmered a calm green, no hiss or pop. Eryndra plucked the swordfish and its fin lit a steady blue.
Roy nodded at the intact figurines, then at the rattled merchant. "See, perfectly safe," he said, and kept his traitorous hands to himself.
They continued onward, turning into a busier thoroughfare. In the background, Roy spotted Zehrina's distinctive cloak flicking between stalls, trailing behind them at a distance, Maelara's silhouette next to her. He smiled privately, glad they were safe enough to do some idle sightseeing.
They drifted into the central plaza where a grand fountain ruled the square. Its statuary showed bronze knights leaning into their spears while a marble mage lifted both hands, coaxing the water into vaulting arcs that came down in silver threads. Sweet pastry heat rode the sea breeze from a bakery tucked under a colonnade.
Eryndra breathed in. "Smells good. I'm hungry."
Eyes bright, Orden bounced on his heels. "Pastries?"
A grin tugged at Roy. "I didn't bring the sterilizer, so I won't. But you two—"
He stopped. Eryndra had gone still, gaze sweeping the plaza. Whispers skittered through the crowd, a few faces tipping with recognition, then smoothing out again. No one stepped forward.
Ignoring the looks, he steered them to a pastry stall.
They each took a small bread pocket heavy with jam. Orden finished his in two sticky bites, lips stained red. Eryndra ate slower, considering the city as she chewed. "I like the cleanliness here," she murmured. "It only verrry faintly smells like butt and balls."
Roy exhaled through his nose. "What the... Eryndra, do not talk like me."
Eventually, they found themselves in a quieter district, the bustle easing as they strayed from the main roads. Roy noticed the buildings here were older but still well-kept, no signs of slums or back-alley squalor.
With a slight turn of his head, Roy glanced at Orden. "Enjoying yourself?"
Orden nodded happily. "Yep! We saw shops, people, food, performers and only sixty four people wanted to kill or rob us!"
Eryndra looked at the sky, measuring the sun's descent. "We should probably regroup before nightfall. I still sense a lot of tension from the folks around here."
"Yeah, let's rally at the guild soon." Roy replied.
Behind them, Zehrina and Maelara paused beneath a lamppost, conferring briefly out of earshot. Roy gave them a small wave, as if to say "I see you following us." They each made a shrug in return.