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   [color=silver]Rocked to bed by the waves atop some flotsam just to be awoken by the sound of some fisherman throwing fish guts for the sharks nearby. The putrid stench of brine and coagulated fish blood twisted Llaier’s stomach, so much that she proceeded to puke over the chunk of ship that she floated upon over night. Soaked and filthied she kicked her legs through the water to propel herself towards the shore until she could climb up onto the sand and rocks beneath the boards of docks. Parts of her outfit had been burned, but it was intact enough to wear into town, at least to the point that she could find a seamstress to sew some colorful off-color patchwork onto it. But that could wait... there were more pressing matters at hand, like where she was?

   She dusted the muddied sand and loose pebbles from her knees and kicked some loose debris off her waterlogged boots. To look like a mess was par for the course with Llaier, but dirty? That wasn't something she wanted attached to her reputation. It seemed that the Madman had delivered her somewhere that she had not expected, but whether it would lead her towards what she was looking for wasn’t something she could control.
     
[color=#D2C2FF]“Know where we are?”[/color] She asked out loud.

[sup][color=2e2c2c]“No we don't.”[/color][/sup]

[color=#D2C2FF]“Perfect! I love the unknown.”[/color] She replied to the voice in her head.

   Llaier climbed, straddled, and stepped up until her soaked soles pressed down onto the salted oaken boards. She stood there, taking in the ocean breeze behind that strange mask and drawing in a deep breath before sighing it out. Alive to see another day. Alive to paint smiles onto stiff faces and spark flame within lost souls… or just find some fun? Her strange silhouette caught the gaze of many of these fishermen, dockworkers, and sailors waiting for their time to embark out onto the blue. But only one of them was brave enough to approach her.

[color=white]”Forebears, you’re a frightening thing to crawl out from the ocean aren’t you?”[/color] The gray bearded redguard brazenly remarked with a gold-toothed smile.

[color=#D2C2FF]“[b]Frightening?[/b] That’s quite the compliment. Where are we?”[/color] The masked jester tilted her head and stepped towards the man, forgoing personal boundaries to inspect the man closely.

[color=white]”Port Hunding, why?”[/color] The redguard’s scrutinizing eyes squinted at the masked stranger, and he backpedaled as she drew closer to him.

[color=#D2C2FF]“I’m looking for something [i]dark, mysterious, and powerful[/i]. Would you happen to know where a fool like me could find such things?…”[/color]

[b]”Weh— well that sort of stuff is above a fisher like me, strange one. But you would have better luck asking around the more flamboyant, socialite types, nobles and those ilk.”[/b] He stiffened up and scratched the back of his head, running calloused fingers through black and silver curls.


[color=#D2C2FF]“That’s all I needed to know, thank you kind stranger.”[/color] Llaier arches forward towards the old man and stands on her tippy toes. Her mask closes the distance, swiftly drawing closer to his face with her own until it touches the redguard’s scraggly cheek… and then a smacking of lips can be heard behind the mask in some strange faux kiss of his cheek. 

   And with her thanks given, she raises both her hands overhead before bending backward and hopping to perform an effortless backflip, swooshing through the air and in the opposite direction. At first she’d land on her hands, and then the next flip her feet, and then hands again, until she was quite some distance from the helpful fisherman. Once she was on the main footroad that serpentined through the markets and housing strips she’d return to a normal stride, glancing aboutst the new sights and faces of the Port. She wasn’t sure where this wealthy district was, but she’s watch for gaudy dresses or men with greased hair or fancy hats to follow deeper into the hustle and bustle of colorful faces that called this place their home.
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