The day dawns clear and hot, and the passengers aboard the Skylark are awake early in anticipation of catching their first glimpse of civilisation in almost two weeks. The passage from Norbrook has been slow going, with this year's Calm season apparently not doing much to ease the strong, unpredictable tides that circle the archipelago. Progress along the hot, humid coast has been tedious.
Still, it is not long before Hightown's lighthouse finally appears through a gap in the trees, quickly followed by the great golden dome of the Temple to Pelor rising above the tops of the trees, and the red-tiled roofs of the larger homes until the ship finally passes between the "Three Sisters" watchtowers that mark the entrance to the harbour, the city and the river beyond.
"ROPES ON!", bellows the captain, and the crew scramble into action, scattering idle passengers out of their way as they expertly throw ropes to and from the dockside as they drag the ship to a final halt. A cheer goes up from everyone on board as the gangway is finally lowered onto the long wooden docks that stretch out into the estuary.
"Passengers off! Sailors, get the holds emptied! We sail in two days at dawn! "
You grab your possessions and are bundled off the ship in a crowd of bodies; most of whom are at least trying to go in the same direction as each other and find yourselves standing, at long last, in the middle of a bustling crowd of dockhands, merchants, customs officials and tourists in Hightown's south docks. Several other vessels sit at rest in the wide harbour, and most seem to be similarly busy. The crowd of passengers seem to mostly be wandering eastwards towards the main part of town and the temple. Across the river mouth to the north, larger houses stand on the hill overlooking the river, but you don't have much time to contemplate your new surroundings before you are barged out of the way by a young man running with an empty cart.
"Oi! Move it! Some of us got jobs to do!"
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