Imperial Merchant

Roy came to the side of a merchant ship and saw a group of Half-Elf laborers carrying Wooden Boxes filled with herbs aboard. He walked up to an Imperial man who was holding a ledger and recording the number of herb crates.

He did not speak Imperial Language, so he hoped the other man knew at least a little Elven Language.

"Is Boss Darwin aboard?"

Roy asked the Imperial man in Elven Language.

The Imperial man had a bit of a paunch. He wore glasses, a gray linen shirt beneath a sheepskin vest, tight knee-length breeches, and pointed cowhide boots. His calves were covered in thick hair, and he wore a turned-brim felt hat. He was so fat that he practically had no neck.

The Imperial man looked up at Roy. Since he did not recognize him, he asked in Elven Language, "What do you need with the Boss? If you're looking for work at the docks, you can just tell me."

"Just tell him that Roy has come to visit and wishes to discuss a business deal with him."

Roy stood casually on the dock with both hands tucked into his belt as he spoke to the Imperial man.

Hearing this, the plump Imperial man widened his eyes and sized Roy up again. He slapped his forehead hard before saying, "You're Boss Roy? Please wait a moment. I'll fetch the supervisor right away—oh, no, please come aboard with me!"

He was so flustered that, when he turned around, he realized he was still clutching the ledger. He quickly raised his head and shouted toward the ship:

"Matthew! Oh, damn it! That damned Matthew, get your ass down here and get to work! I have an honored guest to receive!"

A nimble figure came running down the gangplank and quickly