The city of Oshibor ruled its province from a lowland, not a majestic hill or far-seeing cliff. The harbour was connected to the rest of the city by a few roads, lined with new homes, like it had been a separate town was nearly encompassed into the bustling burg. Their voyage had been long and even the thrill of seeing the steely point of Draggad Isle had become a stalwart resolve as they watched it shift past for two or three days. But Oshibor, gleaming as the rising sun finally shone down the rocky slopes of the Great Isle’s coast, had instilled a sense of relief in Farek and his friends.
Matek and Diaren spent that first night in Oshibor ‘seeing the sights’, though Farek and Sievus did as the marina-folk had suggested. They crossed the city to see the castle of Baron Lokraia. While the wealthy on Var Nordos built estates out of the finest materials, big mansions, and lavish gardens, the rulers of the Great Isle surrounded themselves with enormous rock blocks, towering bastions of military endurance. The castle in Oshibor was shaped like an enormous square, with towers along the walls, dozens of guards in patrol, and a five-storey keep in its midst.
Farek marvelled as they walked the perimeter. He told Sievus, “It must cost a fortune just to keep this place functioning.”
“They don’t sit on money like we do in Soros,” Sievus replied, grinning, but then looked back at the castle in awe.
The streets were packed with people. Back home, there were occasionally pale-skinned citizens or travellers, but here in Oshibor the population included many white people. The style of garb was similar, with most people wearing a respectable tunic or robe, unlike the jungle peoples on the continent. Farek saw a group of monks as he started to lead the way back to the inn where they had been staying, six men in unmarked grey robes.
“I know you can’t share details of what we’re doing here,” Sievus said. “But, have you been to the Great Isle before?”
Farek shrugged. “As a child, I think,” he said. “But I don’t remember much of it.”
“I’ll remember that castle for most of my life, I suspect,” Sievus murmured, and looked over his shoulder again. It was visible from anywhere in the city, invulnerable to enemies and storms alike. Farek smiled and continued on his way. The Borala had already departed, carrying passengers back across the Orrish to Var Nordos and Radregar.
“Look at it while you can,” Farek said. After a few days on solid ground, Farek and his men would set out again, sailing along the coast of the Great Isle. In New Mallam, across Copper Cove, they’d find some clue of the assassin in Soros. Farek hoped for his sister or signs of his family. He wanted to learn who had hired the assassin, in case it was someone else than House Mavagar. It was the only solution to protect the wellbeing of his home. Farek would go to the House of Kiaraka, and he would find answers.