I crested a hill today, and the Inner Sea stretched out beneath the sky, heaving slowly, with ships like tiny black ink spots splattered across its aquamarine surface near the port.
The port of Treston is a thriving town of a population of about two thousand, mainly dealing the imports and exports of the goods from the far side of the Inner Sea. I had the good fortune to be introduced to the dockmaster, Vald Sightworth. He is a portly dwarf in his middle forties. He was dressed in the outfit of a dockworker, and I would not have recognized him as the dockmaster save for his badge of office: a bronze coin with a stamp of a ship upon it. He had a square jaw, dark sunken eyes and surprisingly strong arms. I lost in an ill-advised arm wrestling match, along with fifty coins. I queried him about the Cardani rat-men, but interestingly, he had nothing to share, despite trade with the far South all these years.
“We only did trade with the settlements by the sea. The Elves came from beyond the swamps. That’s what I heard. Even then, the settlements knew next to nothing about them.” That was what he said when I asked why.
I spent some time walking about the streets of Treston later. Its people are mostly pleasant, although they keep to themselves, unlike the more open demeanour of the people of the Greens. The port itself will take you a whole afternoon to explore, and on my jaunt, I saw an open-air bazaar near the docks selling everything from woven rugs imported from the Varishah lands to exotic spiced meats from beyond the sea. Another structure of note would be the lighthouse located on a cliff overlooking the port. I plan to walk there tomorrow, since it is quite late and I am exhausted from my journey. I plan on exploring this port a little more, and if you wish to send your reply by courier, I think it will be able to reach me at the Cracked Shield Inn before I seek a passage across the mouth of the Darsia River.