The seagulls whirled overhead and their cries filled the morning as Kesél made his way across the Péngefîrkant, the market square of Chélemby city. It was early morning, and the stall holders were setting up for the day's trading. Clouds scudded overhead, and a cool breeze blew in from the harbour, bringing the smells and sounds of the docks.
He carried a small packet under his arm, which he had picked up at the Stílighus, or trades hall, just moments before. He knew his captain was eagerly awaiting its contents, so he didn't delay in the markets. Instead he quickly crossed the market square, and headed down the small Strand Alley to the docks. He wended his way along the Visk gâdè (Fish Street), avoiding the crates of fresh fish being unloaded for the day's trading. He nodded to the traders of House Wésen as he passed their concession house, and came to dock where the Fûren, his master's ship was tied up.