Step, step, step.
The foot-worn path gave way beneath her massive greaves. Plated boots pressed into the dirt, her tremendous weight causing her to sink an inch down into the earth beneath her which each step. Her armor was dented, scarred and chipped. Nails driven through the extra plates she had covered over old broken gaps in her armor with dug into her flesh. She had hammered the ends of the nails down so they wouldn't poke and tear into her but the bent ends still grinded into her through the threadbare holes in her gambeson. They were of little concern. There was no pain to be felt from them as they rubbed into her shoulders with each and every sway of her enormous breastplate.
She had traveled many days and nights along this path. A traveling merchant had informed her that there was a town down this road. A couple months travel he said. He had made it sound like it was a long time but it really was quite short for her. Each day was but a moment flickering on past her unnoticed. Despite how unhealthy it was for her sanity the time she had spent wandering the great sea floor had taught her many a trick on how to pass time by. She could walk for years on end with little to no thoughts on how long she had been walking. She found that acknowledging the passage of time made it feel all the longer. Perhaps she did not craft such wisdom in such descriptive phrasing but it more or less meant that in summation.
Whether or not it was a long or a short time she eventually did arrive. In anemic daylight she stood before the old wooden gate which led into the heart of the city. Ordinarily there would be guards watching from the walls and checking the wares of travelers passing through but there were none. With the loss of the clergy's sway they found themselves more inclined to serve themselves rather than the city. Those who hadn't turned to banditry were hidden away like most of the citizens were.
Step, step, step.
The cobbled stone paths held her footing much better than the dirt road just beyond. They hardly sank at all beneath her armor's impressive mass. She continued on through the streets, moving along down her way. Through the narrow slit in her helm she scanned what little she could see as she was on the lookout for a smithy or perhaps a tavern where she could look for some work. She needed the coin and she needed repairs.
A place to sew up this cut in my pants would be nice. She considered as she peered through the thin slot in her helm. Instead of those things however she found people who were running past, running away from something. Well, perhaps they were running away from something. She couldn't really tell. Often times if people were running it was either towards or away from something. Perhaps there was something they wanted to get to that she missed? Maybe the carnival was in town!
Oooo! She did so enjoy carnivals. She reminisced upon a time her father took her, her three sisters and her five brothers out to see the carnival. It was quite a magical time in her life. As she lost herself in bygone memories she was quite unaware of who or what was ahead of her until she almost smack dab in the middle of it.
Step, step... Stop.
Her ponderous endless march slowed to a halt as she looked up at the scene before her. A man and a woman stood at one side of an orc and a large winged lizard stood at the other. Quite a spectacle indeed. With her anchor sat upon her shoulder, an ancient rust-bitten tool splashed with the old brown stains of blood it has spilled which as a whole made the orc look small by comparison, She looked up and marveled at the unusual sight.
"Owo? What's this?" She wondered aloud. Her voice, while pleasantly cheerful in both sound and tone, rang with an unearthly resonance and seemed to drag on towards the end of each sentence. She stood by and looked on at what was going on, all too curious about the big lizard with wings. From an onlooker's point of view they'd see a warrior clad in so much armor naught could be seen below but the dismal yellow glow cast by the dark eyeless pits in her unseen sockets.
Well, that and the ship anchor she had rested on her shoulder.