The Salt Lantern

The Salt Lantern sits low against the docks of Port Eralas, its stone lower walls darkened by years of spray and tar, its timbered upper floor leaning ever so slightly toward the harbor. A green-glass lantern hangs above the arched doorway, casting a steady glow that cuts through fog and drizzle alike. Inside, the air is thick with brine, woodsmoke, and spilled ale. The common room is broad but close-feeling—heavy beams overhead, scarred plank tables, rope coils hanging from pegs, and a long bar polished by elbows and hard seasons. Sailors, dockworkers, small traders, and the occasional quiet negotiator fill the space in shifting tides.