Link to OOC Link to Discord Player Pings: @Maleth @bossaroo @kanila @GoreWrencha @BuriasDempsey Light drizzle splashed against the deck as another large wave broke against the bow of the mercantile vessel Dystopia as it neared their final destination. Up ahead through the foggy gloom, pinpointed by small slivers of light generated by light poles on the docks piers was the port island city of Mayoral. Nestled in the craggy, steeped cliff sides of the Majhorn Isles chain, the north-western most section of the Kingdom of Archaea. Lightning flared overhead as the tempest storm rapidly continued its transition through the area, an unfortunate event seeing as how the winter months were just setting in and the summer temperatures had already begun dying off a few days before hand. Standing at the helm, an old grizzled captain, his weather poncho slicked with the salty spray of the ocean fought at the steering wheel even as deck hands got into position to grab the lines that would secure them to the docks. A large booming sound reverberated through the ships hull as another wave sent it reeling into a buoy causing the already rambling bell in its housing to reverberate rapidly as it bobbed back and forth in the water. Seconds passed as the ship veered ever closer before finally coming into view. Shadowy shapes on the stone piers were jostling back and forth with poles and thick rope to secure the vessel as the angry sea fought to send it crashing into the docks yet the captains grip held firm as it nestled itself snugly between the two concrete slabs, its sides covered in thick rubber tubing to cushion any vessel within. Shouts went back and forth as the crew and port officials rapidly secured lines between the vessel and piers and within minutes its aggressive motions were mostly arrested. A long wooden gang plank was wheeled up along the pier to the side of the ship even as its cargo bay opened up and cranes swiveled into position to begin off loading the supplies. Having landed relatively safety, the passengers on board the vessel began to quickly disembark carrying their belongings and moving towards the sheltered coverings along the piers length moving towards the main customs building at the far end. Bright working lights illuminated the area in industrial white and yellow hues and work trucks continuously trudged up and down the piers length next to the covered walkway eager to load up on the supplies being lowered into them one by one to return to the larger mercantile section of the island known as Port Ironside. Walking in a relatively spread out group getting in line with the other passengers but keeping an eye on their surroundings and each other, the infiltration team waited for their turn as the customs officials went through each person in turn. Being in the lead, Elizabeth readied her documentation as she eyed the person in front at the buildings gated entrance. A young gentlemen in a white and blue police uniform, his chest bearing the port authority emblem was busy checking the papers of the person in front looking at the black and white photograph and comparing it to the person in front of him. The officer asked a few questions before, being satisfied, stamped the passport and handed back the documentation before pointing to the side of the building where a guarded gate led to the main road and outside of the small ports main compound. With his last person finished, the man looked towards her and spoke in a calm, mannered voice. "Next! Passport or immigration papers please." Leaning out of view for a moment as he picked up a pen that he dropped, he straightened his cap and looked towards her, hand out waiting for her documents. "What is your business here mam?"