“Gods alive! You’d think they’d never hauled in a ship in their miserable lives!”

The woman clutched her laced neckline with one hand and the railing of the gunwale with the other as the passenger ship right itself after its collision with the docks. Sailors cursed the shoremen and they cursed them right back, trading the pleasantries of harbor folk as leathern hands lashed the wayward vessel to Port Mercy. The passengers, who had previously been leaning out over the rails in a colorful array of wide brimmed hats and frizzled hair to catch first glimpses of the quaint and bustling harbor, now righted themselves or clung to the railing all the tighter. Some looked pale and some tapped restless toes at the place where the gangplank would meet the creaking ship, eager to be rid of it.

Only one passenger did not flinch, but had stood - solid and still as an oak tree - throughout the whole episode. Deep set eyes peered out from heavy eyebrows while the wind played at the red hair and beard, eyes looking at with the crowd but not seeing. The crowd of well-dressed passengers milled about the deck, snatching luggage and the hands of family members, while the stocky dwarf stood rooted to the deck, his solitary pack pulled tight to his back and his hands tensed in fists. He sniffed the air. And underneath the sting of brine and timber that he had come to know so well on the voyage, there trickled in another scent, wafting off the shore or leeching up from the bowels of the continent itself. Sickly sweet and cumbersome, the aroma sat heavy on his heart and prickled the hair on the back of his neck. Impossible, of course, to find it here on the other side of the world, and yet… Kolbe Fairoak curled his fingers around the battle axe at his side all the same. His breath rose in short, shallow bursts as unbidden memories marched up from within him.

A jostling blow struck him from behind.

“Watch it, dwarf,” a tall elf hissed over his shoulder as he shouldered his dislodged pack. Kolbe shook himself free from the haunting scent and it vanished on the wind. Perhaps it had never been there at all.

Satisfied, he broke free from the paralyzing deck and strode down the gankplank with the throng of disembarking guests. About halfway down, he chanced a glance at the infamous port city. Languid palm trees, crystal blue water, and a beaming, white sun all looked back at him, inviting and demure. He shook the last of the cold memory from his mind and embraced the sunny shore.

There surely would be no need for dark memories here.