It was foggy out today — or maybe tonight considering how early you had to get up. Though, it wasn't too early for a mariner, anyway. And fog wasn't too unusual for Portsmouth Harbor, either. Still, you had a sneaking suspicion that it might lead to a drizzle.

It really was a stroke of luck that you had gotten this job. Your last ship had been stopped due to some discrepancy, and you would've been stuck here if it wasn't for The Tundra. You weren't really sure what they were shipping, but, then again, it didn't exactly matter, did it?

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The dock was... very empty this morning. Between the fog and the strange lack of the usual bustle, it felt a bit eerie. But at the edge of the docks, far away from most other boats, was The Tundra. It was large, with a good number of shipping containers on it.

As you entered aboard, you were greeted by a large man, who looked quite pale for someone who spent months on the sea. He wore a large coat, and had eyes the same color as the foggy dawn today.

He grinned at you from behind a white beard, and held out a hand for you to shake.

"Welcome aboard! I'm sure you'll do well here."