The Empress of Tides was not merely a ship; it was a floating fortress. It was a behemoth of ironwood and brass, its massive paddlewheels churning the water, powered by mana-engines that hummed with a deep, magical vibration. Above, three masts of white sails caught the wind, ensuring the vessel moved with the grace of a swan despite its monstrous size.
At the Quartermaster's desk, the purser wrinkled his nose behind his spectacles. He looked at the two disheveled figures in pirate rags standing on his pristine woven rug.
"I'm afraid the lower decks are at capacity," the purser sniffed, dipping his quill into an inkpot without looking up. "And we do not accept passengers without a letter of introduction."
Revas didn't speak. He simply reached into his canvas trousers and dropped a heavy, uncut emerald onto the ledger. It was the size of a pigeon's egg, glittering with a deep, verdant fire that shamed the lantern light.
THUD.
