Hopper just stands still and agrees. She's not sure what it means, but it doesn't sound painful or scary, so how bad could it be?

"My name is Hopper. It sounds like whatever you're doing would be incredibly valuable; go ahead."

Mariello uncorks the vial, tips a little onto each wrist as if it is perfume, and inhales deeply of the scent, which smells a little like incense; her pupils go wide, and she looks deeply into Hopper's eyes, a somewhat unnerving level of eye contact - and there's something more, a powerful sense of being observed.

"As Riqueza voyaged the ocean, I voyage to the heart of the person; as Riqueza found a new land, I will find what lies beneath..."

She goes slightly cross-eyed for a moment, then recovers swiftly.

"Congratulations, you have a perfectly normal human soul."

"Yep, suspected that the portal let souls travel, too. So we can be sure that anyone would be able to cross to the other side; being unable to send people across would hugely complicate things, so it's quite practical that it proved unnecessary.

Now, how are we to prepare for the return trip? It appears we would want a cover story, and a plausible source of funds; I'd like to hear more about the idea of claiming that I was a Herald. Would there be any type of Herald that would want to look down at the world from a tall vantage point on a boat?"

Sofia is clearly somewhat taken aback that Hopper is, in fact, a normal human, but recovers very quickly; her demeanour gets a little more informal and friendly.

"I'd rather not tell anyone anything than tell them a direct lie - you might not have encountered our people before, but we really don't like lying, it damages the soul. Being obnoxiously mysterious is a hakima speciality, though.

Unless you happen to have enough of a shipbuilding plan to know exactly how much weirwood we need, I think our next stop is probably some shipwrights who can tell us what we'll be looking at...

...in the interests of not tripping over more bad assumptions - how big is the place beyond the portal? The normal kind of portal that I am used to dealing with goes to a Realm pocket, which is strongly aligned with a magical Realm - unless it's the Hall of Worlds, I suppose - and at the absolute largest, something like a small island, certainly no larger than the island we're on right now."

"Vaguely the same size as this world; likely larger."

"...right."

Sofia looks kind of conflicted. She doesn't want to accuse the nice, seemingly very open person of lying. Certainly the outfit she's wearing is quite something, which supports her story of being some wholly new phenomenon. But the Empire has plenty of human enemies who would cheerfully lie - although to what end, she's not sure. 'Wasting a bit of weirwood on a wild goose chase' seems like a rather odd objective.

Well, she can introduce her to some people, not directly vouch for her, and see what proof she digs up when they ask for it. Wasting the time of a few shipwrights on what is at least an interesting tale is hardly the worst outcome. Mariello is going to want considerable payment for delivering this, but she can probably just get someone to enchant all the Shantelle herb gardens, and it will be good for everyone.

"So, shipwrights. This is rather a tradeoff of secrecy and effectiveness. The Ezmara enclave in Siroc is where I would normally go for this kind of thing; they are very keen on experimental designs and probably already put together plans for something that was too tall to be practical. But there is a Grendel fleet anchored just off Siroc, and they seem to think we would like to trade with them, so the streets of Siroc are likely infested with Grendel merchants. Nobody will be being particularly open with them, but we would want to disguise you better, at the very least.

There are plenty of fine shipwrights in Atalaya, and fewer Grendel, although a few of them may have come ashore here as well; but they are, by and large, traditionalists, which is good for getting ordinary things done, but not so good for speculative work.

Or I suppose we could journey to Sarvos. Sarvos was sacked by the Grendel and I'm fairly sure any that dare set foot in that port would be robbed naked by mountebanks before they had left their boats, treaty or no treaty; after all, we would clearly pursue the common criminals that did such a thing, what can you expect in a city of the League, and so on. I have fewer contacts there, and they do not intrinsically respect my position, but 'a life of divine luxury and plenty' is likely to be quite a popular selling point.

If we are going there, I would want to ask around in Atalaya before we headed out, for someone who knows the League better than I do; a lot of friendships were forged in the recent raid on a citadel of slavers, so it shouldn't be hard to find someone trustworthy who can make useful introductions."

"Beyond the question of secrecy, we need to ask about speed. The shipwrights of Atalaya could easily risk the Grendel having sufficient time to discover the portal by themselves, leaving us without access to it. Unless they are absolute maniacs, a Grendel fleet wouldn't chase some random ship, letting us reach the portal further ahead of them than any other option.

I believe that we will simply find a curious shipwright, entice him to retrofit the boat we seek, and proudly own a brand new ship, with a record-breaking, yet practically useless, crow's nest; in the eyes of its eccentric new captain, the greatest ship to sail the seas. Wouldn't that be a tale to make any Grendel hearing it snort for a few seconds, before returning to actually consequential work?"

"That definitely sounds like a job for the Siroc Ezmaras, they are quite well known for deploying eccentric ship designs because they felt like it, and they're the most likely to have already done most of the work.

Mariello, shall we head back to Shantelle parador, get Hopper a less eccentric outfit, and we can hammer out a quick contract for the finder's fee while she's changing? I don't really want to parade you through Atalaya port dressed like that if we're trying to keep a low profile, Hopper..."

Mariello nods, and turns to head back up the road.

Hopper follows after Mariello, rather inpatient in her desire to return to Homeworld. She's curious to see just what the less eccentric outfit would look like; it seems like strong dyes are nearly universal here. It'll be annoying not wearing her drysuit anymore; it feels so toasty and nice against her skin. But she can't risk such clearly alien clothes getting revealed and exposing her secret.

On returning to the parador, she is dispatched with Ritelli to a store-room - "See if you can find something she likes in the clothes we keep for sailors, if none of it's good enough then I guess you can go through my wardrobe," says Mariello - where he throws open a chest full of slightly worn, somewhat crumpled clothing.

"Pick out anything you like the look of, I'll wait outside until you call me back in," he instructs her.

The majority of the clothes in the chest are fairly simple cotton and linen robes, richly dyed in flame colours - sometimes gradients, sometimes simple block-printed patterns, sometimes just plain colours. There are also matching long scarves, which by the look of the other people she's seen are worn tied around the head in a somewhat elaborate fashion, shorter lengths which are probably meant to be worn as belts or sashes, and some plainer coloured (they are still coloured, but generally more natural-looking ruddy and mustard shades) underclothes - although these might be a little hard to recognise because the standard styles are 'loincloth' and 'halter wrap'.

She is NOT changing into a medieval loincloth or halter wrap! She's seen these in museums, and felt vaguely horrified when she thought about how inconvenient they must have been. What she's wearing now took lots of civilizational and personal work she's not going to let go to waste. 

The drysuit and dress comes off easily enough; then she changes into a modest, linen robe, trying to match the clothing into the most inoffensive, bland and anonymous style possible. She's unfamiliar with the scarves, and elects to go without that particular accessory, expecting fewer clothes and embellishments to make her stand out less.

When she emerges, Ritelli looks a bit skeptical. "Did you need help tying a headscarf? It can be a bit tricky to get the hang of if you're not used to it, I guess? And I guess you'll want something to carry your things in... I think there's satchel bags in another chest. Didn't you like any of the sashes? We can go get something better from Mariello's personal stash if you like, she did say..."

"No, I just wanted to avoid anything that might come loose and bring more attention to myself. Unless my lack of a headscarf would turn many eyes my way, I insist on the simplicity of going without."

"It's a bit weird, but not too bad I guess - you'd better take a sash or two, though, or I bet Mariello has a nice waistcoat or something if you really don't want anything that ties on. Else folk'll wonder why the hakima's going round with a pauper."

"Oh, I wasn't really very familiar with the fashion here. I trust the waistcoat more than the sash, really. Clothes from the other side of the portal aren't designed to be tied around anything; it's seen as too unreliable, so I would feel quite uncomfortable in a sash or anything else that needs to be tied to be worn properly."

"No worries, I wouldn't manage looking natural in what you came in with - pick out a bag from here," he opens another chest, which contains a selection of purses, pouches, long plaited cords and a few larger satchel bags, all of which are brightly coloured and have at least some basic decorative stitching, as well as a few painted wooden beads or thin shiny pieces of metal sewn on for good measure, "and we'll go see what Mariello's got spare."

Hopper looks through the chest, trying to find a satchel bag that seems like it wouldn't be too heavy or bulky. She eventually ends up with something, missing her many pieces of luggage perfectly sized for carrying exactly what she'd need on any given day. 

"Let's hope that it Mariello's waistcoat fits well enough on me; at least where I come from, poorly-fitting clothes would bring a lot of attention."

There are a number of light purses but they trade off fairly steeply on capacity and sturdiness; looking pretty seems to have been a much larger concern than functionality.

"Oh, we tend to wear things pretty loose, it should be fine - tightly fitting stuff is more of a League thing," explains Ritelli.

"Well, that's a relief, at least. It's much better for clothing to be too loose than too tight."

She's mildly annoyed at the impractical design of the purses, but chooses the one that seems like it'd blend in the best with her outfit. She wants to keep her extremely alien background to herself as much as possible, after all.

The other outfits she's seen don't seem to be big on colour coordination, but there are plenty of small bags to choose from, and she can pick one that blends in quite nicely.

Ritelli leads her out of the parador and cheerfully into one of the other buildings, which appears to be a private dwelling (which was entirely unlocked, although some people did pay attention to their entrance and Ritelli waved cheerfully at them). There are throws and pillows and curtains and other excuses to drape fabric on things everywhere, all in flame / sunset / generally bright and aggressive colours, many with sequins and metallic-thread embroidery.

"Up here," says Ritelli, indicating a rather narrow staircase; the surfaces of the stairs are still plain adobe but some basic geometric patterns have been carved into the front of the steps and painted, although not as vibrantly as the fabrics.

What is presumably Mariello's bedroom is similarly decorated, and has a big obvious wardrobe which Ritelli throws open; it has a number of outfits similar to what Mariello was wearing, robes and baggy trousers that are less decorated and presumably worn under the robes, and a few waistcoats at one end.

Hopper just walks over to the waistcoats, looking over them. She'd probably take more care if she was getting properly tailored back home, but she's really just rushing through finding something appropriate so she can start getting to the work of rescuing people and hopefully shepherding them into a safe, prosperous place to live.

All the waistcoats are loose, flowing garments, most of them are made of silk although one is fine cotton, and have meandering, swirly embroidery which is vaguely reminiscent of flames or smoke, with various shiny things (painted beads, precious metal sequins, one of them has squares of mirror-polished silver) embedded.

The waistcoats don't seem too different? Hopper takes a few minutes to try them out, choosing the one that she thinks fits her best; she's probably still thinking too much about what would blend in in thomassia, although that particular thought doesn't enter her mind.

Fortunately, none of them are a bad choice here!

"Much better," says Ritelli, approvingly. "Hopefully it's not too weird - I mean, it is Mariello's, you'll be carrying a bit of him wherever you go with it, I guess he quite likes the idea of staying attached to you though - but I know it can be a bit itchy to dress wrong...

...I guess you don't - do you even have egregores, where you come from?"

"I've never heard that word before. Is it some kind of animal? I'm not sure how it might be relevant."