The air in here tastes salty. Crates of dyed cloth, bottles of Rhenish wine and fragrant spices are stacked alongside barrels of salt herring and cod.
People here have always lived by and with the great sea that perpetually crashes against the shore. Generations upon generations have set sail across that sea and returned with goods from faraway places … People here make their living from the sea.
But the generous sea is also greedy: With relentless force it has sucked down generations of fathers, uncles, brothers and sons beneath its surface and smothered their terrified screams with brine and darkness.
And the lucky few who have managed to get to shore tell frightening tales of horrific shipwrecks, of merpeople dragging sailors overboard and gigantic sea monsters snapping the masts of even the largest ships as if they were matchsticks.
Why, it’s almost as if this sea has a will of its own.
Perhaps someone or something has been commanded to strengthen the power of the waves and wreak havoc with ships and people – what force is ruling this sea?