Selu inhaled deeply as he looked over one of many wharfs in Quantill City, catching a deep whiff of the salty tang infusing the Andoan air. Intermingled with the smells of the sea were the odors of the hulking, bad-tempered Aqualish inhabitants and the distinct aroma of fish. As an island city on a world whose surface was ninety-five percent submerged, aquaculture and maritime activities provided most of the occupation for the populace. This particular wharf jutted out into the largest harbor on the eastern side of the city in an inelegant block of permacrete. Its edges were lined with docks and clusters of ramshackle buildings featuring garishly painted signs catering to the various needs and vices of the sailors that frequented the wharf. Unsurprisingly, the area was quite dingy and the