The salty sea air drifted cool and clammy through the streets of the port city of Lomedor. Coundless hundreds went about there business throughout the city. Dockmen were constantly loading and unloading boxes, crates, and other such things onto and off of various ships of various designs and sizes; merchants and stall owners were shouting about the latest and greatest of their wares, mostly fish and jewelry and such; the streets were crowded with people.

In short, it was Barras Rike's favorite city. It was also his favorite time of the day - noon, when Jorcus was in business. He'd gotten a nice big salmon, a twenty-pounder, and had had half of it wrapped for later. The other half he was now sitting down to eat with a bottle of Bordeaux. Wine didn't really go with this atmosphere, but as a connoiseur, Barras wasn't really into ale all that much. Oh, he had the occasional ale or mead or other drink, but he mostly drunk wine - and fine wine, too, not wine that was fresh and new. The oldest wines were the best ones. This one was almost a hundred years old and his personal favorite. It was rare to find one so rich, but he'd purchased it from a fellow wine connoiseur who'd been named after the guardian of fire, Jupiter Vaudeaux. Jupe, as the eccentric preferred to be called, also charged heavily - but his wines more than made up for it.

He was just starting to enjoy his meal when someone came down and sat at the dockside table he was sitting at. He looked up, offended by the fact that the person didn't even bother to ask. Buffoon. He glared, but said nothing as he continued his meal...

Drygonsky sat down at a table where a man was eating fish and drinking wine. He appeared to be a fisherman, but Drygonsky decided not to presume anything. The man appeared to be angry as he sat down with him, but Drygonsky paid no mind. This was one of the best tables to sit at if you like eating your meal with a cheery background of the ocean, churning salty, white waves up onto the beach. If you ate here at breakfast or dinner, you may also notice the beautiful sunrise or sunset gleaming against the pearly surface of the water.

Drygonsky reached into his cloak pocket and pulled out a small loaf of bread and a softened hunk of cheese. He took a bite of each, then settled back in his chair, chewing. Looking back over at the stranger, he noticed the expensive looking wine sitting in the man's hand. Hmmm... Maybe he's not a fisherman. they usually can't afford that kind of--... Drygonsky mentally slapped himself. Stop presuming stuff, Drygonsky!" He wanted to be prepared in case the "fisherman" attacked him. He wanted to be prepared in case this man was stronger than he looked. Taking another bite of both the bread and cheese, Drygonsky looked back out at the ocean. Beautiful as ever, the waves gleamed in the sunlight overhead. He sighed slowly, then began to think again, Now I remember why I moved to Port Adune... As he always thought when he ate here. Looking back at the man, Drygonsky swallowed and then asked, "What's your name, fishe-- Err... Sir?"