Storsea

The guards nodded as the caravans were let into the city, bloodied and injured, stopping then near the harbor. A bustling harbor, filled with activities, shoutings of prices and other caravans could be seen.

Sitting on the docks were fleets and fleets of ships, coming and going every few blows of the wind. Where foreign faces could be seen disembarking and unloading their shipment, carried by their many slaves bare chested.

"We've… arrived, at last," Yolk said from his dried lips. 

"We part ways here, then, lord sir Yolk," Hubert bid, mocking the title with a chuckle.

"You know what…? I'm too tired to even think of that," he said with a weak voice, barely above a whisper, before facing to the caravans behind him one last time, "We'll depart for Vresmond two months from now,"

Hubert nodded.

"Then… uh, may the Goddess be with you?" Yolk bid farewell.

Hubert smiled upon the statement.

"Goddess or no Goddess,,"