Clang! Clang! Clang!
The bells of Kilg Harbor Docklands rang.
Called a bell, but it was actually a hanging iron plate—a wooden frame for support, with the iron plate suspended by hemp rope, struck with a metal rod when needed.
Upon hearing the clanging, the laborers who had paid their dues could come over to move goods.
The sheriff of Docklands put down the metal rod and stood there waiting.
Behind him stood four soldiers with long swords at their waists and long firearms on their backs.
Soon, a First Mate approached.
The pouch of money in his hand brought a smile to the sheriff's face.
Then, once the pouch was in his pocket, the sheriff turned and left with his soldiers.
Inspection?
What inspection.
These ships from the Ainhars Territory were all commoners with no relation to the Ainhars nobles, no need for an inspection.
Smuggling?
What smuggling.
