“Any port will do in a storm,

Yet one’s heart would always yearn for,

The one place it wished to see more,

Where one came to be and hailed from.” - Old seaman’s ditty, often sung by sailors who were a long way from home.

The good ship Le Faucon Noir had not stayed in Xeluvo long. They merely unloaded a few goods, loaded a few more in its stead, and departed the next morning. Cal noticed how even the crew stayed on board other than the times when they left the ship to help the unloading, and otherwise had not mingled much with the locals, which was unlike the behavior of most sailors she knew of.

Doubly so since she knew all too well that Arquivaldo’s crew were the sort who loved partying and going wild when they had shore leave. To see them all quietly behaving at port like that was an oddity, to say the least.

“None of the boys and girls really like Xeluvo much,” explained Avigeya when Cal asked her about the matter. Arquivaldo was busy for once, as he made sure all the manifests matched with the goods and whatnot, which left the burly orcish woman in command of the crew while he was absent. “Most of them likely favored the pirates we’ve gotten along with, over the locals here.”

“They’re all just so… I don’t know how to say it… Arrogant over their weird sense of perceived superiority. Did you know what I got like half a dozen marriage proposals last time I went to shore here? Just because of the color of skin I was born with?” she added with obvious distaste in her voice. “While at the same time they scoffed at my captain, for the same reason. Some of them even said disparaging words about him. I made them swallow those words right back alongside half their teeth back then.”

“To be fair, I’ve seen similar things happen, some for reasons just as vague, some for other more concrete reasons, and they often came in every variety,” admitted Cal with a nod. “In a way, we also discriminate against others in the Empire I’m from. Just proclaim your support for the late usurper and I guarantee you’d be reported, arrested, or worse in short order. Doesn’t matter if you were one of our own people or not.”

“That’s different though?” asked the burly orcish woman with a raised questioning eyebrow.

“When you look at the underlying motivations and reasons, I guess,” said Cal with a sigh. “On the surface though, discrimination is just discrimination, no matter the reason. Sure, sometimes we have better reasons than others to do it, like to ostracize someone who committed horrible crimes and the likes, but all too often the reasons could be mercurial and at times made-up, just to allow one group of people to tread down on others they perceive as below them for whatever reasons.”

“To be honest, that’s probably the main illness right there, that some people needed to tread others underfoot to feel… validated or powerful,” replied Avigeya with some thought. “All too often they’d make up various reasons just to be able to tread on others, all to satisfy their own egos. And since people like those were often in power or influential, others followed along, and you get shitshows like this place.”

“I’d give them another two, maybe three decades tops, before they pushed their own people too much and someone else took over.” added the orcish woman in the end.

********************************

From Xeluvo, the ship sailed further north along the western coastline of Alcidea until they reached the peninsula at the north-west of the continent. Then they headed for the top of the peninsula where Port Serda was situated. This time, the ship stopped for longer as they delivered their goods while loading others, as well as allowing the crew to have some fun in the city.

Cal herself found herself feeling somewhat nostalgic at the port city. It was the first place outside her homeland that she stepped foot on when she left on her journey, eight years ago now. So many things had happened and changed over those years, yet the city still remained mostly the same compared to back then. If anything, it seemed more prosperous, which only made sense since trade with the Empire had restarted and intensified after the end of the Civil War.

By complete happenstance, Cal also met with some old acquaintances, though it was more that they recognized her while Cal herself had mostly forgotten about them. She ran into a small mercenary troupe on their way back from hunting, when four of the mercenaries came and greeted her.

After some recollection, she finally realized just why they seemed familiar. They were the two mercenaries who served as bodyguards for the fop she had met way back then, as well as the two female adventurers who had been his intended victims at the time. Apparently they had been invited to join the mercenary group as an apology of sorts by the former, and had worked together since.

From them Cal learned that shortly after she left, the City Lord had brought down hell on the branch of his family from which the fop came, the whole branch collectively disowned and exiled with only the clothes on their backs, after an investigation revealed the many abuses they had done by borrowing his name and authority.

The City Lord’s own good reputation had backfired in that particular case, because the victims had not dared to “besmirch” his name by reporting their grievances. By the end of the incident, a good dozen cousins of the City Lord’s direct family were exiled in the fallout, while their belongings were confiscated and distributed to the victims.

Cal was surprised to learn how her short visit to the city and the casual things she did had resulted in so many changes, changes that affected the lives and well-being of many at that. She felt glad for those whose live were bettered because of it, and since she had also learnt of the extent of their abuse, felt no pity for the punished ones.

It was just their deserved due.