Unclear posting

Slowly, reluctantly, the sun rises over the horizon, bright beams cutting through smog and low lying clouds to dispel another gloomy night. As a signal to the throngs collected on the shore, the light triggers the mornings unmoorings. Dilapidated scows and heavily worn family heirloom ships struggle into the bay of the city, a milling mass setting forth to drag sustenance from unhealthily garbage strewn waters. No glory lays in the struggle to merely feed the families, the masses, no riches sought nor ambitions beyond life itself. In the cries of desperation and growls of famished bellies, little matters but what can be dragged forth to stave off another day's hungers.


As they dip into the slime of the bay, the worn and oft-repaired nets collect debris even more than they do small fish hiding from the jaws of the predators of the deeper waters. Eager hands draw forth what little bounty can be had, hastily scouring the detritus from the sustenance they seek, discarding the unsought back into the churning waters from which it arose. Discarded boxes and broken furnishings are lifted and tossed in a seemingly unending cycle until as occasionally occurs, a loud outcry is heard.

Minaes Finfoot, a billowing beast of a man burdened by an unfortunate birth defect not unheard of on these waste strewn shores, looks down at the uncommon contents of his net. In the much knotted netting lays entangled a laktofish, a bottomfeeding, spiny fish that is sought not for its meat but rather for its bones which can be enscribed well with scrimshaw. Seizing up the fish, Minaes smacks its head against the seat of his small boat to grant it a fast death that is his usual offering to the Sea god. As the long flat head of the fish cracks soundly, from its jaws is flung a small green gelatinous mass to fall wetly amongst Minaes' other few catches for the morning.

Laying down his prize, the begrimed fisherman moves to clean the mess from the limp side of a small blue bramson which he was looking to eat for his lunch, using a sodden sleeve to wipe the mass from the flesh. His arm touching the blob, Minaes howls as razor sharp teeth sink into his flesh before releasing him. With nary a thought, Minaes lashes out with his one good foot, smiting the blob a blow and sending it over the side of his small vessel to splash back into the water.
As he begins to work at his net once more, a small green form bobs to the surface several feet from him.