Later that morning Aerex, Talia, made their way back to the docks, and began to walk along the pier once more, as they had the previous day, though now their quarry differed. Vorodon was finishing his breakfast, and hurried after teh pair several minutes later, catching up with them, by the time the smell of the sea assailed the trio's noses.
After speaking to several dockhands, a fishmonger, and a one-armed sailor, they at last found the dockyard, where the sailing ships which were slated to participate in the great race were stabled, like prize-winning stallions, each enclosed inside a private boathouse, arrayed over a half-mile of coastline, below the actual docks.
After another hour, they at last found the ship, The Vermillion Wind, perhaps as expected, just now getting a fresh coat of vermillion paint, by a busy-looking squad of hired workers.
Approaching the vessel, the thre companions were stopped by some hired guards, It seemed that each ship also had a small security force, to keep prying ears, eyes, and spies, away from the vessel. It all indeed seemed as if a great horse race was going to be held. One on the high seas.
“What is your business with the Vermillion?” a gruff, young man barely out of his teens asked, leaning on his spear, and scratching his hairy chin. The half-ogre in his presence, made the youth somewhat nervous. Vorodon could smell it on him, though to his credit, the young man looked relaxed.