TITLE: Greydon Salt: The Man at the Helm of Brine Harbor
HOOK: Numbers over men, always.

STORY BODY:
GREYDON SALT
Harbor Master of Brine Harbor

Age: 43, give or take. Salt’s the kind who won’t fuss about candles on a cake.
Origin: Claims London, but the sound of him tells a different story.
Allegiance: His one true loyalty is to “The Ledger.”

Here’s the thing about Salt: he’s fastidious with records, plays his cards close to the vest, and knows how to keep his lips tighter than a ship’s hull. He’s a man who reckons every harbor was once open water, and every wall was once a tree. He knows it’s all bound to change, and if you forget that, you’ll find yourself drowning on dry land.

Now, Greydon Salt, he totes around a leather-bound ledger like it’s his lifeline. In it, he’s got all the figures and facts of Brine Harbor — from the harbor’s depths to every faction’s IOUs. Word around the docks is he’s also got a secret stashed away in those pages that goes back to before this place was even settled. Salt doesn’t bow to any faction, and they let him be because they need his numbers more than they trust each other. Simple as that.

As for his peculiar habits, well, he’s often seen perched on the limestone ridge as the sun dips below the horizon. When he’s alone, he’ll jot down notes in his own words, though he reckons nobody’s watching. And somewhere, locked up tight, he’s got a Spanish chart he figures nobody knows about. But like I always say, if you can’t explain it to a deckhand, you don’t truly understand it.