"Easy there! Bring her in nice and easy!"
Timbers and ropes creaked and strained in turn as the Desiderata was pulled to her new moorings in Cerenis. Along the decks of the ship, sailors tied ropes to the bollards along Desiderata's top deck, eager to get ashore. With a soft thump, the ship settled against the dock, and gangplanks banged into place, allowing the crew to disembark, which they did in grand and chaotic fashion, with tens of men swarming ashore to spend their dubiously-acquired coin.
A smartly-dressed man waited on the docks, holding a large leather-bound book, scanning the deck of the ship, his eyes settling on Toquato, who had just begun to make his way down the gangplank.
The pirate captain approached the man on the docks, holding out a gloved hand.
"The harbormaster, I presume? Capitano Torquato della Testa d'Oro, at your service. Salutations and tidings."
The harbormaster nodded curtly, giving Torquato's hand a firm shake. "Same to you captain." The harbormaster flipped his book open, producing a quill from one of his pockets. "What cargo are you carrying, captain?"
"Clothing, textiles, dyes, silver and gold bullion, and -- I believe -- two casks of Connalaothian ales."
The harbormaster raised a quzzical eyebrow as Torquato spoke, still penning down the content's of the ship's hold, his eyes drifting over Torquato's clothing, the two pistols strapped to his chest, the large sword at his hip, and the general ruffian-ness of his crew.
"Tonnage?"
"Of the ship?"
"Yes, Captain."
"Can't rightly say. Shall we call it around-"
"What exactly" the harbormaster cut in, "is it that you do, Captain?"
"I'm a merchant, signore."
"Quite the diverse wares you have."
"Oh, certainly, signore. I am quite the entrepreneur, I am told."
As he spoke, Torquato would reach into his greatcoat pocket, pulling out a sizable sack of coins.
"I hope this will more than cover the costs for the privilege of docking in your harbor, signore."
The harbormaster mutely accepted the sack of coin, nodding knowingly as he tucked the bag into his own coat pocket. "Of course, Captain. Forgive my prodding."
"Not a problem, harbormaster. In fact, you can easily right this wrong. If you would be kind enough to tell me where I could, perhaps, offload some of my 'merchandise' to potential buyers, I would be most grateful to you."
The harbormaster's stoic exterior cracked for just a moment, revealing a wry smile. "I believe I can direct you to some potential buyers."
"Much appreciated, signore."
A few hours later, Torquato would barge into one of the seedier seaside taverns of Cerenis, immediately scanning the patrons for a face matching the description the harbormaster had given him: short, green, and with a shock of pink hair. Hopefully easy enough to find, even in the dark confines of the tavern.