Moving on, I turn back to the east to gaze across the steadily reddening sea, increasing the magnification to get a good look at the distant Zebrican mainland—Casabronco in particular. The city itself was built around a sizable enclosed bay, and ships constantly travelled to and from the enormous, busting port that covered nearly all of said bay’s coastline, with very few of the departing vessels bound for Farasi. Instead, most of those ships—particularly the merchant vessels—were leaving for the far-off port of Nanga, a much larger port that exclusively serviced Zebrat, the Empire’s capitol. The odd warship from the Casabronco coast guard patrolled around the entrance of the bay to ward off any Zhaaneph corsairs or kelpie pirates, but there wasn’t much of a police or martial presence beyond the mercenary warships some of the merchants hired to escort their ships. My eye turns towards the large, cobbled, and well-guarded land routes to Casabronco next, and it didn’t seem like there were any big caravans coming into the city tonight.