Sheer Cliff Island's terrain was not as rugged as Xia Nan had thought at first glance.
The towering, jagged black-brown cliffs stood in the island's north, then gradually eased as they stretched south, until the land suddenly opened up near the sea, forming a broad natural rock-shelf plateau.
Sheer Cliff Village was located there.
The thin soil, made from a mixture of seabird droppings and rotting plants, formed the surrounding farmland, where salt-tolerant, wind-resistant crops were planted. Most of the houses were built from the island's black-brown stone, with thick stone walls, clay packed into the cracks, and roofs laid with dried bundles of grass and discarded, charred ship planks.
Toward the south of the plateau, occupying the flattest stretch of land, stood dense rows of wooden racks hung full of cod and herring, filling the air with a sharp, overpowering fishy stench. Farther ahead was a small, old dock, where several crude fishing boats rose and fell with the waves.
By the time the Black Gull rounded from the north of Sheer Cliff Island to the south and gradually approached its berth, a large crowd was already waiting on the dock.
At their head was a short, stocky man weathered by hardship.
Fifty years old, or perhaps just in his early thirties?
Out at sea, after years of wind and sun, the surface of his dark, rough skin was covered in marks left by the sea breeze. The hollows around his eye sockets and nasolabial folds were especially pronounced, making it impossible to judge his exact age from appearance alone.
He was no more than five feet four inches tall, but his build was extremely broad. The muscles beneath his skin were compact and tough, and his finger joints were wider than ordinary people's from years of labor at