Sea

Sunsport was a fairly large city, constructed in a valley between two large mountain ranges. A river ran between the mountains, down to the sea; the city was built at the river's mouth. A long quay stretched for hundreds of feet along the city's waterfront, with many wooden piers; most were full with trade ships or small military vessels, and a few seventy-four gun ships of the line sat at anchor as well. They were all flying the Eastedge flag, which billowed gallantly in the breeze.

Behind the quay, the city truly began. The quay gave way to cobblestone streets, with lampposts on one side and buildings on the other. The streets were anything but empty; ponies of all sorts walked to and fro on the waterfront, from young fillies seeing the world from their mothers' backs to navy stallions sharing drinks as they ogled mares, from the strong dockworkers carrying carts of goods and supplies to the stealthy pickpockets, darting in and out of the crowd. It was a compilation of the best and worst of Eastedge society; the governor's cabinet cheerfully talked as they walked by a group of beggars. Behind the waterfront street, well-decorated buildings built of stone bricks and strong oak stood tall; shops, houses, and warehouses all overlooking the port and the sea beyond. A tavern stood, here, underneath a house; its door was wide open, and out stumbled a posse of drunken stallions, disappearing into the crowd as soon as they'd appeared. Behind the waterfront, the city became a sea of shingled roofs, sloping in a variety of directions or none at all. A thin layer of smoke hovered over the city from a massive number of chimneys, sending wood smoke flying high.

The governor's mansion sat on the mountains, overlooking the entire city and a decent part of the ocean. It was a large, colonial-style house, with large fancy windows in almost each room, a large window allowed the sunlight to flow in. There was a large bay window facing the East, such that it would fill the room with light during every sunrise. The building was painted a stark white, with a black roof. A pair of chimneys rose out of opposite sides of the house, and there was a small plaza with a flagpole in the front. A cobblestone road led through carefully-tended gardens, conveniently taking a turn right before hitting the servants' houses and going down the hill to meet up with one of the city's main roads. Occasionally, a stagecoach would climb the hill and the governor would step out for a second before heading into his mansion, but usually the road stayed empty.

It was into this port that the Eagle pulled in just before noon. Its masts lay with all sails furled as it was slowly berthed and moored, and the gangplank lowered for the crew. Ponies flooded off the boat, taking advantage of the small bit of shore leave they were provided. They wasted no time in visiting family, or going shopping, or, as the majority of the crews of ships that berthed in Sunsport, going to the tavern. There was, of course, a joyful gathering on the dock of ponies waiting to see their loved ones and families, and many crewmembers were reunited with their mothers, fathers, sisters, brothers, wives, et cetera.

Somerset was one of the last off the ship. He watched from the stern deck as his crew disembarked, before finally making his way down the gangplank. Making sure that his clothes were properly ordered, and that his golden-yellow overcoat wasn't too wrinkled, he stepped down the gangplank and took in a deep breath. He had, for once, a smile on his face. He looked down the quay; sure enough, there was a pair of mares, one young and one old, chatting excitedly to each other. He looked behind him quickly to make sure that Twilight was following him; then, he made his way to his family.

"If it isn't my old Somerset! You came back fer yer old ma!" the old mare said in a coarse, cracked, old voice. "It's been too long since you've visited, sonny!" she said with a stern look, before breaking into a fit of laughter. The two shared a brief hug, before the mare turned to look at Twilight. "Who's the purple?" she asked. "She don't look like one of yer crew."

Somerset coughed. "This is Twilight Sparkle," he said. "We found her drifting in a half-destroyed boat about a day out. She was coming from the East," he said. "Personally, I think she was probably so naive that she decided to try steal a boat from her hometown and make it beyond the Barrier." Twilight just waved awkwardly.

Before Somerset could say anything else, he was tackled to the ground in a massive hug. "You're back!" the mare shouted. "I knew you'd be back. You're too good to die to smugglers."

"Relax," Somerset said, trying to get his lungs to stop being crushed. "No need to worry. Smugglers and wayfarers aren't enough to kill me," he said. The pressure on him let up. "It's good to see you, Cross."

Cross was a young mare, about twenty years of age. She had a creme-white coat, like her brother, but had a yellowish mane. Her eyes were also of a deep blue, a trait she'd gained from her father. Her mane was short and well-washed, as was her tail; both were tied into neat little buns.

"So, how was the trip?" Cross asked as Somerset got back to his hooves.

"It was --"

"Oh, by the way, Ma's got some great food cooked up for you. Come! Bring your friend, too!"

Twilight looked at Somerset, but he just chuckled. "Alright. But if it's bean soup again-"

"Come on! Food doesn't wait for slowpokes!" She started walking down a street. After a moment of hesitation, Somerset and his mother started following her. Twilight trailed them all, looking in wonder at the city around her.