In the morning of the seventh day after departing from Anvers, the small convoy formed by the cog and the knarr are making good time sailing on a choppy sea. Although the stiff wind is allowing them to travel faster, the constant up and down motion of the ship has taken its toll on the passengers cooped up below for most of the journey.
The first indication that the destination was near was two small points slowly rising out of the sea on the eastern horizon. These soon become recognizable as columns of rock rising out of the water like guardians to the island that soon appear as well. A slash of green hugging the water, with cliffs of white and red overlokking the lowlands.
Tha captain directs his crew to angle the ship's path on a more southerly heading, so as to skirt the island from the southwest. The closer they get, the more impressive the cliffs become, rising ten times the height of the ship's mast and dwarfing its passengers. Soon enough the sheer wall of reddish rock, banded with darker and paler strands, slide by of the left side of the ship. The island's port come into view, with its adjacent town sprawling below the slightly lower cliff of the southern part of the island. The piers are unimpressive on number and size, but adequate for the needs of your small ship. A few sailing vessels can be seen beached a bit further off, while many more dot the sea around the island. The knarr soon joins it on the other side of the pier.
Once the magi have disembarked and work has begun offloading their supplies, Bernhard joins them. "I have sent for carts and porters to transport your belongings into storage. Would you like to wait until everything has been stored, or would you rather we go to Oberland straight away?"