That seems important and possibly demonic but she's really too tired to investigate properly right now.

She's up and ready to intervene in case anything horrible happens when they run the ship aground, though.

The grounding goes quite well - there's some horrible groaning sounds and the ship kind of sags in the middle in a way that ships are not meant to do, but they manage to run it up on the actual shore rather than hitting a sand bank and some of the less occupied people have been building rope ladders and harnesses to get everyone down safely, even those with broken limbs.

The regular sky visits have attracted a bit of attention to the area, but there are only a few fast runners from various caravans along the road that follows the top of the cliffs in a position to arrive quickly, and they're basically just interested in the story - and maybe whether they can invite anyone back to this or that caravan or nearby establishment for a cold drink in return for the full tale and maybe some of the loose change.

Great. Lovely.

In that case she'll wish everyone well and fly back to the city Yasmina was heading to and ask for the Brazen Parador or possibly just a recommendation for a nice inn.

The city has a nice impressive gate, with a raised portcullis, the arch of which contains:

actual armed (with halberds; random people just seem to also have swords on their belts without that having much to do with their obvious role or status) gate guards, who seem to be primarily interested in large caravans although they are looking a bit nervous about the flying person and one of them has headed through an archway presumably to get a superior's opinion,

a variety of adults hanging around in the shade of the gatehouse, arguing with each other, observing the noticeboards full of colourful advertisements, and looking out for opportunities, a couple of which appear to be having a staring competition over who gets to intercept Lenora,

and quite a few unaccompanied children, several of which periodically calling our advertisements for paradors and shopping establishments, who look avidly in Lenora's direction.

An attempt to address a question to noone in particular sets off a huge clamour where a dozen people attempt to loudly advertise their favoured parador or offer their services as guide simultaneously. 

...ONE RING for the person who brings her to where the Brazen Parador Caravan is! But only if it's snappy!

The adults clearly lose some interest in interacting with Lenora directly, but one of the kids calls "Follow me!" and starts off into the city, looking back anxiously to see if she's coming.

If Lenora is paying attention she will notice one of the adults paying a few of the kids shortly thereafter, who proceed to tail her in what would be a quite stealthy fashion if she was a confused foreigner with no training or augmentation. 

What are they hoping to accomplish with that. She literally loudly announced her destination.

She's in shape and augmented, yes, and has no trouble following the kid. There's nothing on her to pickpocket, either, the coin she flourished seems to have vanished into nowhere.

The kid brings her to a courtyard full of familiar wagons, and holds out her hand expectantly.

"Welcome to the Brazen Parador!" a teenager at the door enthusiastically greets her. "You must be the interesting foreigner Yasmina met on the road, I'm sure she'll be along in a moment, but come, sit, have a glass of syrah while you wait?"

One of the wagons, to which he is gesturing, is clearly set up as a reception room - long bench seats, awnings pinned up to be open to the warm air, and a set of glass tumblers on the central table.

She pays out the ring with a tired nod.

"If that's alcohol, I'm afraid I can't indulge. I wouldn't say no to some fruit juice and snacks - long day, and I can now personally confirm that Grendels are horrible."

"Pleasure doing business!" squeaks the little girl and she scampers back off in the direction of the gate again. 

"One non-alcoholic syrah coming right up." The greeter nods to a younger girl who fetches a jug out of a covered box and pours Lenora a glass of some kind of sparkling amber liquid. It's definitely fruit based, probably mostly apple, but also has a distinct hint of cinnamon.

The greeter goes to resume his position at the entrance, and the girl wanders off deeper into the encampment, returning with a small platter of dried fruits and nuts. 

Shortly thereafter, Yasmina strides over from between a couple of other wagons, looking very happy and relieved. 

It's tasty. "Hey. Promised to come back, and here I am. Fought some slavers, freed some slaves. I guess you want the whole story, probably..." Sigh. "It was mistakes start to finish. And after that I need a good bed, if you know where to go for that."

"Thank you for returning. Uh, did you accidentally implicate the Empire while you were at it? If so, I really need to start running around and panicking about the ceasefire? If not, I'd love the whole story, and - in either case - I'm sure I can find you a spare room in the building we've rented for the moment."

"Oh is that what that was about? Christ, another mistake for the pile. Uh, hold on..." After a moment a flat slab of glass appears and starts speaking. Her tablet can play sound recordings of the conversation.

Yasmina is extremely startled when the flat slab of glass starts speaking! Especially in a voice that clearly belongs to an orc!

She manages to catch herself before she entirely scrambles back out of her seat.

"That... can you do that... I know Lashonar's heralds can do mimicry that well, but... sorry, you're going to have to start it again, I completely missed all of it being surprised."

A few other Freeborn have converged on their position, but Yasmina back to smiling ruefully and looking like everything's okay, and no obvious actual orcs, quickly turns alarm into curiosity; nobody is impolite enough to actually interrupt them or openly stare but a few people have found minor wagon repairs to make in earshot.

She restarts it with a few taps. "Yeah, sorry. I'm - really tired. I did a lot of impeller work during the fight."

She plays the conversation again. Complaining about slavery and the Geneva Convention and saying she's here on her own virtues after the orc hints about Empire, and silence after the orc accuses her of being from some sort of Confederacy. "I shrugged there," she says of the silent spot, after she cuts off the sound of wind. "That's the part that might break ceasefire if any does, I think."

"No, that sounds like you handled it great; either they think you're with the Commonwealth, or are just... weird and inexplicable. It won't necessarily stop them just lying about it, but that's not really their style, they'd rather trick people into actually breaking their agreements - they call it 'Fidelity', it's one of their false virtues.

Does this... artefact... remember everything? That might be even better than a signed contract for some people, they'd pay you a lot of money to be a perfect witness to their high value business deals. Although that's not likely to actually help much, I suppose. Unless you can make more of them?"

"No. Can't make more. I mean, theoretically maybe but - it'd be like... I don't wanna think about this right now."

Ugh ugh ugh. She's feeling a little crowded, honestly.

"...It's different up close." She leans forward and whispers. "I was lucky, in the evacuations? Back home? I saw someone die, but just one, he was an old man in a bed in a, uh, wagon. Age plus hunger plus travel. I was in training. For killing machines, monsters, not people. This..." Slow headshake.

"Oh. Right. Um." Yasmina attempts to lower her voice, but clearly isn't very good at it. "I'm not... really very good at comforting people? But I did have an experience kind of like that, if hearing about it might help?"

"I don't know. It's - you're all so very foreign, my whole culture is different, they did their best to pretend the war doesn't exist, everything's fine, we can all have nice things and be safe, guarded by the valkyries - that's me and my cohort - and the huge armies of machines. Everything is fine. The arcology wall shall never fall. Go have tea and play games and make art. I don't think... I mean, in retrospect they were obviously kind of subtly preparing us for some comrades dying? Playing it up all heroic and noble and... Like, yes. I will die to save a thousand innocents. Without question. It's just never that simple." Shrug. "Rambling. It might help. It might not."

"A lot of the Empire does that, too. Especially in, like, Dawn, but here too in places, and everywhere - well, maybe not Navarr or Highguard, and Urizen is more 'we know things are terrible but art is important and we're going to make it anyway'.

Anyway. I didn't see much war growing up, either. Not in the ship-yards of Siroc, where I helped my dad with ship designs, and not in the Commonwealth, where I studied magic. I was vaguely aware that things were sometimes bad in other places, but they weren't, you know, here.

So I came back to the Empire triumphantly a master of Autumn magic, ready to help my family, and then - well, there was a huge power vacuum. The then-Empress took a whole load of people through the Gate and didn't come back. So suddenly were were on our way to Anvil, to see if there was, an opportunity?

We'd sewn it up so I was going to be Senator, but everything was chaos, and my dhomiro ended up senator because only the heads of families went into the election; so he got me appointed general instead.

Which was, uh, a thing. I'd never held a weapon before. I showed up to the Military Council with a notebook and a robe when everyone else showed up in weapons and armour.

And of course that meant I had to go through the Gate. And try to lead the nation in battle. Which wasn't meant to be a thing for the Generals, we were meant to do the strategic direction, but it turned out everyone expected it.

And I wasn't too bad at it? I think? I arranged a load of healers to come with us and moved them around and... then an orc skirmisher broke through the lines.

My family had equipped me, some armour, a ridiculous wood axe that was clearly for felling trees rather than fighting because I just wanted something for show, but nobody else had more than a wand...

Well. When I came off that battlefield, it was all go for a bit, and then the triage had been sorted out and the debrief location agreed and... I just fainted. Right in the middle of Anvil. Which was all over snow and mud.

And every time I saw a battle wound that summit, I keeled over again.

Not the most auspicious beginnings for a general. But - time, and distance, and things just, continuing - they make it better."

She nods pensively.

"...The healers were a good idea. It's an aphorism but, amateurs discuss tactics, professionals study logistics. Of which healing is a big one. I'm also accumulating more questions about this place and all its magic stuff by the hour, but that... Is what it is."

"I shot, like fifteen people. They weren't about to kill me or anything, or even my friends. It was a surprise attack after I decided I couldn't countenance the slavery. Captain on downwards in order of how big a weapon they had, and - and I was rushing, pushing hard and fast and being loud and demanding because that's what you do according to every tactical class I've had, you aggress and don't stop at all, but all that did was make everything into a massive, horrendous melee. I told them to surrender and they'd live, that's - part of the rules, really, or at least it ought to be, I would have plunked them right back on shore - but they were stalling so I pushed more. Thus, chaos and death and former slaves killing the killers and. And - it doesn't feel very nice. I could probably honestly talk for... A while, like this... I don't want to be okay after that, it'd mean I'm a fucking sociopath, but also I do kind of want to be... Okay, after that. Would they give me a medal back home? For taking out slavers and rescuing the slaves? Maybe. Wouldn't want it.  ...What I mean is, if I did that while in contact and without authorization I'd be court-martialed and stripped of my core, but out of contact it's... Showing initiative. They'll go over everything I did with a fine-toothed comb if I ever go home, but I'll probably come out of it fine as long as I'm not blatantly stupid or evil about things, but that's the thing. I'm not a damned officer! I don't know what I'm doing here, or what they'd want me to do, I have no direction but myself and it's terrifying! Does any of that make sense?"

"Yes. It's kind of like it was for us, after Britta - that's the Empress who went through the Gate with, like, everyone important, and they all got killed - the only people who almost kind of knew what they were doing were the civil service, and they were struggling a lot too. Sometimes there isn't anyone to tell you what to do, and it sucks.

I'm sure there's loads of people around who would love to start telling you what to do, but if I was you I wouldn't trust any of them. Everyone has their own personal agenda. It's kind of why I dropped out of Anvil-level politics, once things were getting more... established again, and people were fighting over the positions, rather than just happy that someone wanted to do the job.

You can ramble as much as you like to me, it's not like I'm in a hurry. We're safe here - well, safer than we've been for a while, anyway - and I imagine the dhomiro's about to have a lot of boring arguments, deciding whether we're settling here or moving on, before anything else happens."

"Yeah, no. As far as taking orders from anyone around here without question, anyway." Siiiiiigh. "People have agendas back home too but I'd trust them more to not be secretly awful. And include things like 'not dying to the alien invaders who won't even talk to us'. I-" Grimace. "Actually, I might have some nice distracting questions that aren't thinking about... All that. Like what a Cambion is and why they're important to contracts, and what the Gate is, and how the Senate works - Anvil is the capital of the Empire?"

"Sure," smiles Yasmina. "A Cambion is a kind of lineaged - humans with extras from one of the Realms of magic. Cambion are Autumn, the magic of Autumn is to do with contracts, and connections, and luck and coincidence - so a contract that's signed in Cambion blood is less likely to be broken, and just generally has better outcomes.

The Sentinel Gate is a big magic stone gateway, it's one of the features that makes up Anvil, though it wasn't from there to start with - the Urizen brought it with when they joined the Empire, some huge performance with oxen and rollers and so on.

It responds to conjunctions in the stars to send people to significant locations - you can detect whether it will open to somewhere, at what time and how many people get to go through, with simple magic, and open it with the same kind of thing.

So if someone appears out of nowhere, they probably came through the Gate and your life is about to get more interesting real quick - usually the people through the gate have, like, maybe half an hour to an hour to get back through before it closes and they have a long walk home.

Anvil is kind of the capital, but most of the time it's just some ruins - it's forbidden to build there, and four times a year people from every nation converge on it and put up a big tent city, and that's where politics gets done.

Every territory has a Senator elected by however that nation likes to elect people - here in the Brass Coast we just cut out the bit in the middle and let people buy the position directly with money - and Senate meets during these gatherings to debate stuff and pass motions, which turn into law and commission big building works and stuff..."

"-I need to investigate the gate. A way to go home would be incredible."