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Alabard Reango did not like traveling by sea.

When he was a young child in Barclay, his father often made him get on one of his merchant vessels and travel to various places. But unfortunately, Alabard quickly discovered that he was prone to seasickness, and vomited practically the entire duration of each and every voyage. His arrogant father simply brushed his youngest child's sickness off, saying that he would simply "grow out of it".

And now, as Alabard slowly stumbled his way off of the passenger ship he had been on, he thought about his long dead father and all the hell he had put him through during his childhood. "Damn that bastard," he muttered under his breath as he carefully walked across the pier and towards the city of Janos.

- - -​

Alabard didn't know much about Pendor, only that it was a continent vary far away from his homeland. Hopefully, he figured, it was far enough away that those despicable assassins couldn't possibly find him here. But with his luck, it was likely that they had found where he was going months ago and were sailing their way to Pendor at that very moment.

But he quickly reassured himself that he had nothing to worry about. Currently, he was at an inn, laying on a comfortable bed and quickly falling asleep for the for the first time in seven months.

The last thing Alabard thought about before going to bed that night was what he was going to do now that he had arrived in Pendor. Earlier, he had thought about trying to make a name for himself and work as a merchant again, but that was before he remembered how much he hated it back in Barclay. Maybe this time, he could do something that he actually felt happy doing. He had only taught about how to be a merchant his entire life, just like his father, as well as his father before him.

It's fine, Alabard thought to himself.

I'll figure it out eventually...