One a few hours off the boat in London, Caede, the Dauntless Chelonite, was still acclimatising to the size and scale of the Fifth City.
She'd been to many places across the Unterzee. Seen the standing stones of the Shepherd Isles, the great sunken shard of Godfall, the snow-battered rocks and fizzing salt-pits of Whither. Nowhere even came close to the Fifth City as far as scale went.
Though some parts were turning out to be a constant disappointment.
The drink, mostly.
The beer in London was thin as drownie piss and everywhere was unduly full.
Seemed like most of the land-loving Londoners were frightened inside by even the smallest sniff of rain. Caede regarded herself as made of stronger stuff than that. What fell was a gift from Storm, whether water, jewels, or stalactites the size of small towns. You took what he sent with good grace.
So that saw her striding along a street in Veilgarden, with no use of hat or umbrella, peering into the hazy lights of the district.
She had not a single blasted idea where she was. The city was averse to street signs in such a way that even the mention of them appeared to elicit nervous glances from the men at the dock...and it made navigation rather tricky.
But it seemed at least one of the Gods of the Zee had some mercy upon her, as the chelonite appeared to have stumbled upon a pub.
The Singing Mandrake.
She had fifty Echoes burning a hole in her pocket, a few days before the next trip up round Censor's Arch, and if she had any say in the matter she was going to get intoxicated.
The sometime zailor strode in through the doors of the place, rather a sore thumb amongst the fashionable patrons. Tall, maybe a bit too tall, outlandishly dressed in clothes of zee-creature skin, and dripping rain-water onto the floor, she approached the bar. a few coins hit the wooden surface and the chelonite enquired as to what was it that the establishment stocked that was "stronger than the city's pitiful beer".
The Technician's eyes might have flicked up to the figure who approached, and regarded him suspiciously. It was impossible to tell when looking into those glasses.
Certainly she was silent for quite some time, as if weighing up her options.
Eventually however, she did give a slight nod of acquiesce and spoke.
"I won't stop you. Although if you're planning to make introductions you'll have to forgive me if I instantly forget you name. Literally." she responded.
"And if you are attempting to sell me anything, con me out of something, or convert me to any sort of religious sect I'll save you the effort by letting you know now that I don't have any money so would not be of any use to you."