"I could get used to this, Nago." Quinlan sat high in the saddle atop his horse, rocking slightly side-to-side as he walked. Nago was the color of buckskin, with brown legs and head. His black mane and tail were recently brushed. Quinlan had wondered if riding through town so soon was the best idea, but Nago had seemed even-tempered enough back at the breeder's.
"What better way to get to know one another, hm?" Quinlan said pleasantly.
The Waterworks was soon in sight, and he slid down and took to leading his horse as he approached the gate.
A dense forest of masts is the first signal that something is up. Masts of different woods, sizes and diameters, sporting the flags of the known countries of Tazlure, announce the site of the Waterworks Yard. They reach out above the granaries and warehouses cramming the docks and thus grace the port-area with grandeur uncommon to the skyline of an average harbour. A heavy oak gate bars the path of any people searching for the roots of those tall poles. Beside it there is a small but sturdy cabin housing three beefy guards. Passage is only granted to those capable of handing over a written permission from a trusted supplier or from an employee of the shipyard itself.
Inside the well-guarded gate the atmosphere is dominated by a hive of activity. Shipbuilding is divided into clearly defined segments. Although ship parts seem to dot the complete area at random the opposite is true. Every single piece of building material is at its rightful place and being prepared for further processing. Workmen of all ages, races and trades work together in a united camaraderie. They shine with a pride born from the knowledge that a ship from their workshop, when completed, will be recognized and honoured as one of the best vessels braving the high seas.
In the middle of all the hustle and bustle a building emerges between the squat, low, slate roofed workshops. This, the only stone build structure on the premises, houses the office of the owner of the Waterworks. The ground floor is used as a design studio. Here ideas bloom and models are built to test them. Littering almost every surface available are prototypes of almost every ship commissioned in the yard. Some new, more advanced vessels can also be spotted, providing you know your goat from your sheep within the shipbuilding trade. During the ascent of the stairs, propped in the far corner of the building, another room reveals itself. Taking up the whole of the second floor and filled with files and documents is the Waterworks’ archive. This dusty space contains the written briefs and contracts of the ever growing clientele.
Reaching the top of the creaky staircase one is presented with a room clearly in strife with itself. Signs of lowly savagery and elements of highest sophistication battle for attention in this the office of the yardmaster. Fierce and dangerous weapons line one wall while dotted around the room fine sculptures and detailed drawings can be spotted. The room expresses the roots and drives of an interesting personality.
The improbable owner of all this is an Orc. Well, not your average Orc, no, a vertically challenged one at that. However, his vision and shipbuilding skills make up for the slight deficiency with ease. Master Navirez is the proud mind that created this, one of the largest shipyards on Tazlure. Accustomed to working alongside humans and other races, this 2.4 paces tall former member of the Targri-orcs has covered his fierce personality with a thin layer of civility. He finds this makes his dealings with non-orcs less stressful and sometimes even enjoyable. The moment he came to this new insight his enterprise started to bloom as none before. Now some ten years down the line his knowledge and vision is beyond doubt and everyone keeps wondering about his next revelation.
Quinlan pulled a rolled paper from a pouch at his belt. The black iron guard of his schlaeger was hard to miss as it hung at his side. It might have been unseemly to roam Roque armed, Quinlan wasn't sure. But he simply didn't feel dressed without his sword, especially since his days in the Condotierre legion not so long ago.
Feeling certain that he looked out of place, he prepared to show the note - stating permission and intent to see Navirez - like a badge to whomever might concern themselves as he looked for the captain.
