The bloodbenders docked at the island with little to no problem. Datu was intent on portraying their mannerisms as "above average". Before the gang was allowed to wander, they were coached in social decency, and warned against angering the locals. Many of the bloodbenders under Datu's watch vouched to stay behind and watch the ship, but those that went had to swear a blood oath to keep relations with the Jasmine Dragons high or at a decent level. Of course, Baqwis had no choice but to go with them, being the guest of honor and all. He lingered behind the "delegation", as Datu called them, avoiding the gazes of passerbys who may find his bandaged body upsetting to look at.

They eventually came upon an inn, who agreed to let them stay for the night as long as they paid up front. Although it appeared as though Datu had meant for them to stay longer.

The sudden hands on his shoulders gave him quite the fright. Baqwis knew he didn't do anything to warrant any hostilities. He sure hoped his companions didn't either. Datu would freak if any of them had to spend the night in a jail cell, he might even kill another member in punishment. The young man tried to cry out for his comrades but was immmediately silenced. The next thing he knew there was a voice in his ear, a whisper that pertained to the meeting with the Jasmine Dragon leader. Baqwis nodded to show the stranger he understood, trying his best not to seem too agitated.

Later he would leave the group behind to deal with the innkeeper and his steep prices. Finding the Dragon House didn't really prove difficult. If anything he had a decent sense of direction, a side effect of growing up on the streets. The Kilat garbed man surprised him, although he honestly wasn't sure what he expected. It only made sense that mercenaries trained in the art of war would join a cause that offered the chance to fight for glory. He made a mental note to inform Datu of this when he got the chance, should he ever get the chance.

He wasn't the only person there, thank goodness. He wouldn't have to be the center of attention. Baqwis sat in what appeared to be [i]his[/i] seat in the congregation, avoiding the gazes of the two who sat nearby. He looked down at the tea placed before him nervously, trying to remember Datu's teachings. He felt thirsty, after the journey to the island, and he wasn't sure whether he was allowed to drink. In Jinin, there were no tea ceremonies, no ancient tradition to adhere to. It was every man for himself. Yet here, everything was so formal, so majestic. It was like walking inside a different universe. He wasn't quite sure how to act or what to think. He only occasionally glanced over at the other two people for some sort of hint as to what to do. He saw one of them sipping his tea, and after taking one look at the girl opted to take a sip of the tea himself, making sure that it was the exact same sort of tea as the other boy. Baqwis trusted he knew what he was doing. Immediately afterwords, however, he placed the cup back down afterwords, looking repulsed. The tea was too sweet for taste buds used to the taste of bitter fluids. In an attempt to hid his repulsion, Baqwis started chewing on the dead skin on the tips of his fingers, occasionally drawing blood.