Mari had to force herself not to stare at the Drogator in fascination. It took her a moment to realize what he was. No doubt Kane was used to stares; his armor alone was enough to provoke gawking, to say nothing of the being encased inside it. He seemed friendly enough, if a little terrifying. She would hate to see how he looked as an enemy.

She was mid-drink of her ale when Kane [i]chuckled[/i], and Mari nearly spat out a mouthful, but managed to contain herself, holding the back of her hand to her lips until she was sure she wasn't going to be an embarrassment.

"Brave, or perhaps just stupid," she said, smiling broadly. "I serve Rán, the sea goddess. I'm on a pilgrimage to one of her oldest temples, here in the Blackwood. I'm to become her Ninth Daughter. If I can survive the rite of passage, that is."

There was a chance they'd heard of the Daughters, if Ithaca and Kane were as well-traveled as they looked. The eldest of them had much fame in the Sea of Swords and even beyond, and while Mari had no legend to speak of yet, the name of the little group carried some weight. Perhaps not here, though. As far as Mari knew, the last time a Daughter of Rán entered the Blackwood was over twenty years ago, when the Eighth passed her initiation.

"Thing is," she continued, "it's said that only Daughters of Rán can find and enter the temple, so I'm not sure if anyone here can help me." A few of the Daughters Mari had spoken with suspected that the temple actually moved somehow, and that old, powerful magic protected it from curious eyes and those that the Widow didn't care for. If she couldn't pick up on any lead, Mari felt she'd have to simply set out on her own, and hope the Goddess guided her.