New novel: give your opinion!

My friend and I have been composing various fantasy (and not so much) epics and novels for a long time, stage performances (amateur, etc.) The world is somewhat connected with TEC Please share your impressions, criticize, suggest changes:

Perhaps this day became the defining one in my life.
The captain of our galleon was poorly informed both in navigation and in steering the ship - we left the trade route at least a dozen times, and we were carried by stormy winds until we were able to swim back on the way with the help of engines. I, yes, probably, and all the legionnaires and passengers have regretted for the hundredth time that they had not hired some kind of privateer for this trip, but relied on the state captain. That got it for stupidity. Once, when we once again lost the current, which marked the trade route, one of our ships crashed at full speed against a cliff, cracked and overgrown with algae. Fortunately, most of the sailors and legionnaires managed to swim to our galleons…. but the load! Three tons of powder from the Welkind stone, fuel and life not only for our watches and lamps, but also for engines, which more than once saved us both from storms and calmness in this area of ​​the sea, and from the dilettanism of our captain. And I'm not even talking about the value of the powder!
That morning, I finally summed up the time - it was the 5th day of the Last Seed month, the Fifth Era of the 38th year. Crawling out onto the deck, I saw a strange picture - the whole crew was laughing and having fun, almost dancing with joy! And it’s not strange - I myself started dancing - ahead, on the horizon, there were islands! When unexpected happiness let go of me, the emissary of the Champion of Cyrodiil approached me, with whom I had the honor of sharing the cabin.
He was a tall Breton with a long, humped nose and a high brow. He had an overgrown face - he did not like to shave - and a thin white scar that stretched across his face. The hair, chaotically scattered over the head, had some strange shade for those times, which was probably called "bluish-brown", which became so from magical influences. On the very same emissary was wearing a light steel chain mail over a linen shirt. In his words, he lived in Elsver until he was twenty, and then he moved from the province to the metropolis, where he met the Champion. Fueled by his thirst for adventure, he traveled half the world with the Champion, from the entire Empire to the distant Tann Colonies, where he became a veteran of the Colonial Wars. After him, I forgot to tell where we were going - to the southern part of the Unknown Lands, where one of our colonies was located - ambitious and wealthy, which wanted provincial status. I, the emissary and several other officials and officers were sent to Belvten, the capital city of those lands, to "get acquainted with the situation and further control." Such an offer did not suit my taste, but several tens of thousands of coins and the promise of a land allotment in the metropolis played a role - I hastily agreed - which I regret. The rest went through the same - the same recruitment in the Chamber of Diplomacy, except for the emissary - he went there "on duty", as he said. but several tens of thousands of coins and the promise of a land allotment in the metropolis played a role - I hastily agreed - which I regret. The rest went through the same - the same recruitment in the Chamber of Diplomacy, except for the emissary - he went there "on duty", as he said. but several tens of thousands of coins and the promise of a land allotment in the metropolis played a role - I hastily agreed - which I regret. The rest went through the same - the same recruitment in the Chamber of Diplomacy, except for the emissary - he went there "on duty", as he said.
When we swam to the islands, I had the feeling that I was in some kind of giant street market. Noise, din, screams, the roar of cattle and hucksters, the stench of rotten fish, algae and feces - all this hit us as soon as we got there. Immediately, from behind the numerous coves and huts on stilts, a myriad of longboats sailed towards us, the captains of which offered, for a moderate reward, to take us anywhere through the reefs that began further downstream. At first we were all at a loss from such a mess, but the emissary, together with the boatswain and the captain, dispersed them, and then sent our galleon into the depths of this labyrinth, where, in their words, there was a market and a tavern.
Already when we moored and paid ten septims for parking, I was about to get off, when the emissary stopped me by the shoulder.
- Better arm yourself, boy - he said.
- Why? -, I was surprised, hastily pondering the reason for such a danger, - this is, of course, a port, but ...
-This is Plavni ... .. -, the emissary said mysteriously and turned around.
Going down to the cabin, I took a short blade from the chest. It was rumored that he was forged during the Demonic Crisis in the city of Chorrol, where a brilliant blacksmith lived at that time - a woman whose name has been lost for centuries. He came to me by chance, and only then did I learn about his legendary past. Despite the intricate rune painting, he was not bewitched, but when I took him in my hands, he responded with a quiet tremor. Having hung it on my belt, I put on one more thing under the camisole, which was also a gift of fate - mithril chain mail made of pure material. The blade and chain mail, as I mentioned, came to me quite by accident - I, wandering through the archive, fell into the sewer, where I found them, wrapped around a bundle. And then they will say that it will fall into the sewer - this is evil!
Having finally gathered myself, I went with the emissary to the inn, to my great surprise, without taking a single legionnaire. "Invisibility is our trump card!" - answered my mute question the companion, pushing his way through the crowd. When we entered the "center", I was given to see the source of that rotten and disgusting smell that was, faintly speaking, we feel in these islands. Fish, vegetables, bodies of mermaids ("They are eaten here!" heaps of geodes, ores and iridium soils.
- Here are the most abundant mines in the world. The main parts of the production ... .. -, the emissary interrupted, fighting off the annoying parrot dealer, - gives the Hetmanate ...
- Hetmanate? I asked.
-Yes it is, Volnitsa is different. They, the Cossacks, dig wherever there is even an insignificant grain of ore. They need money, because it's hard to fight with bare rocks…. Oh, here we are!
I was already imprisoned from what I saw, almost falling on some tramp who cursed me with the finest obscenities. There, on the central island, there was a skeleton of a huge ... no! - a giant ship! It became obvious that all these Plavni were built from the materials of this ship - and then only the bow and middle parts. The stern, slightly skewed, remained immovable, and shone with holes and windows, and at the bottom the frame was decorated with no less gigantic doors with a sign that had turned green from time to time, which read "Ocherets".
- Well, here we are ... - said the emissary and went to the door, - they have a nice tavern ..
- Ah, uh-uh .... what the hell! What is this! - finally I
managed , pointing to the stern - the giant - the Malkusians, the giants of the sea, ran aground here with one of their ships, which they call Caliguls, two hundred years ago.
- A…? I began in a more balanced voice.
- Do not waste such a mass of building material! These islands are the last relatively safe place in these lands, or rather the waters. Next comes the Reef Fields, and we need a guide, damn it! -, he backed up the last words with strong abuse.
- But there, at the beginning of the islands, there was a bunch of these ... floaters! - I blurted out angrily, killed by the fact that for the sake of some evil we are going to the very cesspool.
- Most of them are pirates! They will lead into the depths of the reef and rob, while gathering in ambush about two hundred of them. Our fifty fighters will not be able to cope, already in any way.
Finally we came closer, and saw the door from close by. The gatekeepers - the Cossacks ("The floats belong to the Hetmanate!" - explained my companion) were quite colorful, as in my inexperienced glance. They wore a wide variety of clothes, weapons and armor ("They wear only here, for beauty, and so they fight lightly"). The Cossacks clearly did not suffer from an excess of friendliness, but a golden doubloon flashed into their hands - and the doors were wide open, and the Cossacks were friendly and smiling.
- Tipping is a great power here, especially when it is given with serious currency. Although the imperial coin is the main one, in comparison with the doubloon, it nervously smokes on the sidelines! - somehow strangely added the emissary, passing into the tavern.
Inside, we were not expected to have a better interior than the exterior of this area. The former hold was lined with rough, smoky tables, on which they spat, drank different, no less smelly than the visitors themselves, intoxicating liquids and played dice suspicious and rather dirty personalities. We went to the bar counter, behind which stood in the half-darkness of barrels, flasks and rusks a thickish, with a wild look and three-day stubble, an orc who was just pouring beer for some tramp. Grimacing in disgust, the emissary threw the drunkard off the chair near the counter and, sitting at the counter, called to the orc.
- Hey - ho, chief! Organize - but I have good honey and call Ryogi D'Ron!
- Who is calling? - Overcoming a yawn, the bartender held out.
- Front Skonso…. - answered the emissary and kissed the served honey.
- Your name is Pronte? But this is not a Breton name at all ... - I was surprised. After all, in appearance and manners, the emissary was a well-born nobleman, but here ...
- The Chancellor is trying to make Tamriel democratic and anti-racist, and here you threw this at me! - the emissary grinned, and continued: - Let it go, but although I am a nobleman, my name was not given to me according to traditions or the calendar of saints. And why?...
The story was interrupted by a tall man who thundered his armor between the tables and came up to us. At age, he would have given fifty years of wrinkles on his forehead and a gray beard, but lively eyes and far from senile flexibility and strength gave reason to doubt his age. When he reached the emissary, he roared at the whole inn (the only way to describe his voice!).
- What kind of demon do you want here, h… .os ?! - it was clear that this "client" was not at all happy to see Pronte. And although I was a highly educated official of the Department of Diplomacy, I already ceased to be indignant at such "overtures" as is customary to do in decent society: two weeks on a ship with legionnaires and an hour in Plavny did their job.
“Ryogi D'Ron, you haven't changed a bit over the years! Unless they cut your ass ... a little. - replied the emissary calmly, showing the bartender with signs that he wants more honey.
- More than once - d - d - taunt me! -, from anger this Ryogi began to stumble. I quietly gripped the hilt of the blade and squeezed it in my hand - for something I didn’t like, that everyone around began to gather towards us.
- Hold your horses, Ryogi! Or what does Catalina call you? In general, I have something to do ... -, was started Pronte, but red from anger D'Ron exploded.
“Don't you dare touch her, Imperial Hound! I'll shove your words down your throat! - and drew his sword. The rabble grabbed mugs, knives and clubs and rushed to us. I felt that someone was trying to stab me with a dagger - it's good that mithril is strong! -And, turning around, blew off the attacker's jaw with a blow of his fist. "Again I will have to wash" - flashed through my head when I drew the blade and began to fight back from the hollow. Striking a man with a club on the leg, I cut off his neck, but the next one cut my hand with a knife. The emissary did not seem to be doing any better. Screams, groans, the clatter of wood, the clink of glass and steel - everything mixed in my head in a continuous mess. Then something heavy fell on my head, and I crashed onto the dirty and spattered floor. With a dull look, I noticed that the emissary was doing something to his medallion.
- I found time to play with the clock…. -, I groaned, as here I felt that the strongest wave of air was blowing away me and everything around with obscenely high speed. Unfolding my head, I saw that I was just flying up the wall. "It will hurt" - flashed through my head as I passed out….

End of the first chapter