Port Draken. Some call it 'the harbor that never sleeps'. An island town far from Galatea's main cities, where merchants and sky sailors alike gathered to trade, be merry, and keep away from the Authority's more zealous soldiers. A flock of airships, from the larger merchant galleons to the small, agile swoops gathered by the piers, moored side by side in an orderly manner. A legion of Authority guards, clad in their strawberry pink coats and shouldering long muskets patrolled the area, watching the orange and purple sunset skies. No matter what, they must stay vigilant, of pirates, thieves, and drunks that could stir up trouble at any time.
Situated near the southern piers was Port Draken's main pub, the Willowy Wench's. Warm orange lights emanated from within, accompanied by the roaring laughter of the patrons from within. Wooden stools and round tables filled the interior, free of fancy decorations and pretensions. Large-breasted wenches poured ale into the glasses of frizzly-bearded sailors, their coats smelling of salt and sweat.
While some preferred to enjoy their drinks in peace, others did so with a little dance. A group of musicians gladly played
a tune to accompany them, handling their guitars and violins with rapid, yet precise motions. The dancing patrons followed every beat, tapping, twirling, and nodding their heads to the song in their inebriated state.
Amidst the crowd of tall, burly men with hairy chests and gigantic chins was a tiny girl in blue, barely reaching the other sailors' chest on her toes. Her long pigtails tossed and swayed with every move, her bright face flushed red from the giant mug of ale in her hand. A three-leaved cover on her bright green scarf quickly gave her identity away... for some. Mostly her crew. Captain Himmel Valbuster, leader of the amateur treasure hunting party, the Shamrock.
"YAAAAAAA!" the blue haired girl shouted, with an open mouth smile wider than half her face, her dainty feet bouncing from the wooden floors lightly. With a blurry vision, she looked around, curious to see what the rest of her crew were doing. Would they stay by the bar and drink in peace? Or would they join her in the revelry? They were supposed to meet a client here by nightfall, minutes away... but the Captain couldn't help herself. A little bit of drunken liveliness never hurt anybody, right?
Not long after, the pub's back door swayed open, and in came a young man, his velvet red hair immediately standing out amidst a sea of brown, his slender body clad in a fine, red-orange coat. The young man briefly turned to Himmel and the revelers, and his lips curled into an amused smirk.
Typical Himmel. He walked deeper inside the pub, his posture straight, his chin up, and an ever present, disarming smile on his face. His eyes darted around the area, seeking for other, more lucid members of the Shamrock crew.