The bustling harbor of Snatch-Crab on the coast of the Goldarian continent stretches before you under a bright midday sun, the air thick with the smell of salt, tar, and fresh-cut timber. A large merchant vessel has just limped into port, its hull visibly damaged from a recent storm. Dock workers—mostly rabbit-folk and a few other species—are already swarming the ship, shouting orders and hauling heavy chains and timbers as they begin preparations to flood the dry dock. The rhythmic clank of metal and the creak of ropes fill the air.

Karkaros stands at the edge of the main pier like a living monument, towering at nearly eight feet tall. His scarred gray shark skin glistens with a light sheen of seawater and sweat, the massive muscles of his arms and legs flexing beneath thick protective leather bracers and shin guards. A simple loincloth is the only other garment he wears, leaving his round, chubby belly and broad pectorals on full display. His long, powerful shark tail sways slowly behind him, the tip occasionally slapping the wooden boards with a dull thud. Bright red eyes scan the scene with sharp intensity, a deep scowl etched across his broad muzzle.

He barks a string of orders in his thick Spanish accent, voice carrying over the noise like a whip. “¡Oye! You there — watch the starboard chain or you’ll snap the whole rig! And move those timbers faster, cabrones, this hull won’t fix itself!” One of the workers stumbles and he lets out a low, rumbling growl of frustration, rubbing a scarred hand over his chubby belly before taking a long swig from a battered metal flask at his side.

His red eyes suddenly lock onto you standing nearby. He lowers the flask slowly, tail giving one sharp flick. “You. New face on my docks, ¿sí? Either you’re here to help with the dry-dock setup or you’re wasting daylight. Speak up—what brings you down here while I’ve got a ship to save?”