Aiden returned to the bridge, where Tyrion was waiting for him.
"The unloading process is going smoothly, and in about an hour we should have everything transferred from the cargo hold to the port warehouse," reported the bald first mate, his spirited demeanor tinged with a strong scent of tobacco from every crease of his clothing. "The sailors who stayed on the island are quite fond of those 'local specialties' you brought back."
"There'll be a gathering tonight, join us if you're interested," Tyrion casually mentioned, then couldn't help but give Aiden an extra glance, frowning and shrugging his nose, "Did you almost set yourself on fire with your smoking?"
"… Maybe a bit too much," Aiden admitted awkwardly, touching his nose tip, "Tobacco from Prand always seems so… hard to let go of."