Cypriacium, Parina
It was early afternoon in Cypriacium, around 12:30. Most of the city was at work, many off working in the factories a few miles from the city limits or at their places of employment. Teams of workmen manned scaffolds, doing building and repair work in exchange for a meal and a few pounds.
The sun was high over the red brick structures that formed the bulk of Cypriacium’s buildings, and many of the workmen-and most of the people with jobs in Cypriacium were men-had stripped down to their waists, brown skin glistening with sweat.
The small ship pulled up to the dock in-between larger freighter and one of Parina’s Hatchet-class frigates. The seamen secured the ship to the dock with ropes and dropped a wide gangplank so their passengers could cross from sea to shore. The seamen were a bit nervous about their passengers-after all, they were covered in fur.