The Dock District was far damper and more oppressive than the Governor's Special District.
Leaning, aging wooden buildings crowded both sides of the narrow lanes, along with shacks cobbled together from old sailcloth and discarded planks. Stones and rusted iron sheets weighed down their roofs, barely keeping out the sea wind.
The road was packed earth mixed with broken seashells. After the rain, puddles collected in low spots as shallow gray-brown pools, with films of oil and feces floating on top.
Two gang enforcers led the way, instinctively keeping their distance from Black Blade behind them.
As members of the Ironhook Gang who had seen Ferreira's corpse firsthand, they knew all too well what monstrous strength lurked in the arms of the tall nobleman named Renato.
By contrast, Selina stayed a close half-step behind Renato, carrying the Flamberge Greatsword sideways across her shoulder. Its long, thick blade stood out starkly between the crowded wooden walls.
The sword's wavy edge gleamed a cold gray in the afternoon light. Local onlookers huddled behind their shacks, watching from afar, afraid of becoming the unlucky soul singled out.
Even with a Sea Elf strolling openly past them, not a single person in White Harbor dared leap out to rob her or proclaim the ancient hatred of the Thousand Island Archipelago.
The reason was simple: compared with feeble words, naked violence could always overwhelm everything.
Pye worked efficiently. In less than a week, the Ironhook Gang had already passed along a lead on where a Sea Elf was staying.
Someone claimed that a Long Ears had been spotted here, always carrying a bloodstained cleaver and moving about unpredictably.
Renato had thought the report sounded reasonably credible, so he immediately brought Selina along and followed the enforcers who had delivered the news through more than half