Chinggis Marketplace

With destinations and pet monikers in place, QuestMan and Tutoria appeared by all accounts fully committed to their performances. If they were, perhaps, a tad lacking in experience with espionage, Tutoria was certainly willing to trust in her guidance, and QuestMan in his party's collective wisdom. The rough paper map, once provided, snapped to attention in QuestMan's hands, and unfurled as the two Navis leaned over it to get their bearings.

If the map was any indication, there were only two destinations its creators thought merited any attention. One could only be a caricature of the titular KhanMan's leering face, plastered onto an alarmingly large marker towards the far end of the market. The other, a tiny, unassuming chocolate chip cookie, sat dead centre in a cluster of uneven lines like a spider keeping its web - likely the thoroughfares they were caught in. The small markers spaced down the length of the horseshoe weren't labelled, but a quick glance at the nearest watchtower confirmed a large 'E' on a hanging banner. If nothing else, the two Navis knew where they were now.

Stymied as far as actually finding their location went, our hero moved on to the adventurer's staple of 'climb something tall, grid search until you find something shiny'. The crowds thinned out somewhat as they shuffled down the edges of the broad road to Tower E, giving Tutoria room to stand at the tower's base as QuestMan proceeded to find himself a way up. While rickety at first glance, the tri-pronged structure was lashed together with a trellis-like structure that, to the intrepid hero's adventurer senses screamed ladder.

In seconds, his feet were off the ground, scampering up the wooden beams like he was created for the job. Somewhere in QuestMan's deepest processes, something intrinsically heroic in him was greatly satisfied. The higher he got, the more the camp opened up before his eyes. The pointed tops of the tents almost seemed as waves in a multicoloured sea, bisected by writhing snakes of crowd. As QuestMan found himself a suitable perch and scanned the big tops, a flash of green and red caught his eye, a ways down the road that led to Tower G. He leaned out for a closer look.

The tent looked back. From out behind a thick (and literal) red curtain of hair hanging from the tentpole's peak, there peeked a long, rolling curve of a woman. From QuestMan's great distance away, all he could see of her were tantalising glimpses of skin seldom revealed in polite company, woven so seamlessly into the vines around her as to present the illusion that he'd caught her changing behind them. She raised a hand to her mouth, glimmering lips a perfect 'o' of affronted shock; her eyes, smoky and coy, were throwing a very different story across the market for QuestMan to pick up on. This high up, he was alone but for his thoughts, his Operator, and this stolen moment - the woman tossed her head high and levelled him with an expectant stare.

"Oi!" The moment was shattered by a sudden motion from above QuestMan's head. It was a moment only Tutoria had the luxury of bearing witness to, as the only person in the area actively watching the tower. A fearsome-looking CustomNavi had peeked over the side of his guard's perch, heavy enough in his green armour to sway the whole watchtower in doing so. "What the dickens are you doing down there? Have a little respect for a guy's workspace, will ya! Climbin' up private property, I tell ya..." Grumbling, he made to climb down to apprehend the would-be perp - the tower creaked ominously.
QuestMan's efforts caused Tutoria to chuckle into one glove. "I'm happy you approve! I know this whole business is silly, but we must keep as straight-faced as we can in order to seem like a natural couple sightseeing and not a hero and guide on some sort of quest," she reminded him, trying not to laugh as he struggled to come up with a name that his operator wouldn't shoot down. "I must agree- it's the most natural and, thankfully, perfectly suited to our task," she agreed with Kelsie's assessment.

"Flip, QuestBoy's whipped from both sides," Cassiel thought to himself with a critical expression, as though he himself wasn't currently pretending to be a good worker and interested in video games in order to enter his boss's good graces. "Feel a little sorry for him. Dude needs to get laid like nobody I ever seen..."

Heedless of Cassiel's concerns, the two navis decided that, in true adventurer fashion, the map would be their starting point. Something about inspecting a map with QuestMan gave her a cozy, nostalgic feeling; this seemed, strangely, a little more natural than giving him advice all the time as a guide. Quickly, they managed to get a sense of their surroundings by spotting a nearby "E" that matched the one on their map. The fact that they were already this far from the front bulletin board spoke to how crazy the earlier incident with Teamster had been.

QuestMan decided to ascend a watchtower and use the map; in combination, his vantage point and the map ought to give him a pretty good idea of exactly where they needed to be. She stayed at the bottom, given that the structure looked unstable enough that it was best climbed by someone with higher Dexterity than hers, so to speak... or, at the very least, not by two people at once.

The G tower would correspond with where they needed to go to reach the Cookie Club. Tutoria was content with the idea that he must be spying it now, not knowing what additional details he might be spotting. Cassiel probably would have invested a little more interest in the mission as well if he had a look from QuestMan's point of view. As for Tutoria, she was currently more interested in the guy who'd shown up above QuestMan... that guy didn't look like he had any business standing in a rickety tower, especially not one with a second occupant.

Tutoria saw no need to make a scene or aggravate the man any further, and knew that, if the tower was labeled similarly to the E one, QuestMan must have found the G tower pretty quickly. There was no need for them to linger, especially not in any fashion that might cause the E tower to collapse around them all. As if anticipating that scenario, she took a great many steps away from the tower, then cupped her hands to her mouth. "Sorry to bother you, sir! We were just a little lost! My Hero, I believe we should take our leave!" she encouraged QuestMan, then made a few motions with her arm to indicate for him to come with her. She wasn't sure if he was fully aware just how rickety that tower was looking, from ground level.

If QuestMan complied and got down quickly, and if the guy didn't bother them further, and, of course, assuming the tower hadn't collapsed and smashed them both, she'd hurry along with QuestMan towards the overtly exciting sight he'd seen in the center of the area.
At the base of the tower, QuestMan rubbed his gloves together, tilting his head to gaze up the tower and confirm the lattice he needed to climb didn’t suddenly stop short. Satisfied, he gave Tutoria a thumbs-up, wanting to convey that, yes, this was a task, but, no, it wasn’t too hard a task for him. Thanking the gods of adventurers that he’d finally been confronted with a task where he could showcase his fitness without having to halt a woman twice his size, QuestMan began clearing rung after rung on his ascent with a pep in his step. “I don’t suppose there’s a princess waiting for me at the top of this,” he joked to himself, quickly finding himself at a high enough height to begin scouting.

The hero was glad he’d checked the map before climbing: comparing what he was now seeing with what the map had shown, it was easy for him to use landmarks and get his bearing on where the seductive tent that beckoned him must be. “Funny… by a trick of sight, one would almost mistake it for-“

With a start, the Navi realized what he was looking at must indeed be a woman… or contain a woman…? In any case there was definitely something in there that called to him as an awakened young man, and not just on a metaphorical level. The hero made a laughable “who, me?” gesture, pointing to himself as if needing confirmation at this height he was the one being addressed.

Just as he was beginning to come to terms with what he was seeing, he was given a new perspective. That is to say, he was getting a diagonally tilted perspective as he clung to the tower a bit more desperately, hugging it with both hands as it began to lean. “Whoa, good sir!” he cried out, as much a greeting as a frantic warning to the guard addressing him. “P-pay me no heed, I will be departing immediately!”

QuestMan felt certain this statement would prove true: he quickly began scrambling down the side of the tower to make sure the gravity of the Net didn’t make this happen more swiftly than he could. As he descended, QuestMan made an effort to scramble to a side opposite his would-be captor’s lean, trying to ensure that if the tower were to collapse, he would at least be on top of it and not beneath.

He couldn’t say why, but the Navi had been certain Tutoria was going to ask him to make a leap of faith down into her arms, likely leaving the two of them in a painful heap. ”Haha, to picture something so preposterous,” he chuckled to himself, ignoring the fact that he’d almost certainly do it or anything else if she really asked.

The Navi had confidence he’d be able to get down faster than his pursuer: assuming that confidence had been well-placed, he’d land more or less gracefully before hurrying to Tutoria to hook her arm in his and lead begin leading her where he’d seen. “Hopefully, our friend is only interested in pursuing me so long as I’m trespassing. Let us make haste, mustn’t keep the lady waiting,” he would mutter quietly.

”THE LADY TUTORIA,” Macguffr would boom, accusingly.

“Yes, yes, that Lady of course, only we are incognito so please be discrete,” QuestMan would hush his sword, smiling thinly as he tried to maneuver through the crowds with his Lady in tow.

Of course, all of this was operating under two assumptions: one, that the heavily armored guard would not catch up, in which case he'd need to reconsider the options of fight-or-flight once more; and two, that the tower didn't swiftly give way to regrettable structural weakness, although the consequences of that would be less about consideration and more about constitution.
The temptingly ladder-shaped tower gave one long, final wooden creeeeeak of warning...and was promptly heeded with a swift Escape from QuestMan, stage down. The tower's guardian, already irritated, became even more so when his apprehended miscreant did not meekly accept his fate, and wait for his jailer to climb down for proper apprehending (how he thought to do this on an already-complaining tower was anyone's guess). By the time QuestMan rejoined the Lady Tutoria on the ground and set off, arm-in-arm, he was still picking a mincing path down the ladder. Between the heavy sag of his armour and his panicked yodeling, he was having quite a time of it.

In moments, QuestMan and Tutoria were on the boulevard. A tide of people swept through the street, everyone going a different direction, blind to all but their business. It was only natural that they stayed close, and locked hands tight to brave the crowd - they were liable to be swept off otherwise. To get anywhere in Chingghis Market, it seemed one needed to know precisely where they were going. Luckily for them, QuestMan did, and so their steps cut them through the sea of shoppers, and onward to victory.

The spoils of victory came in many forms, and today they came to QuestMan in a familiar tent. Covered in textile creations so lifelike, there appeared by all rights to be a cutout of deepest jungle in the middle of the camp. Navis avoided the entrance, laden with more guards like the one they'd stumbled upon earlier, and gathered around the walls, where silken women examined the would-be patrons. The only people entering were those gifted silken handerchiefs by the watching ladies. It seemed they would have to find a way in...or so it seemed, until a fluttery twirl of red settled to the ground right at QuestMan's feet. High, high atop the tent's peak, the red-headed woman's expectant look was still unmistakable, nor was the gentle, beckoning, bouncy sweep of her arm toward the entrance.

It might have been Tutoria's imagination, but the looks she was getting from the ladies in the wall felt more like being sized up.

Entering proved as simple as walking in. The hustling noise of the Net was all at once gone, replaced with smoky ambiance, low coaly light, the echoes of breathy sighs. An elegantly-robed Navi beckoned the duo forward with an ear to ear leer,. "Welcome, welcomebh to the Lemongrass Pavilionbh!" he burbled, his voice sounding strangely waterlogged. "I am called Solonian.EXEbh! Please, step inside - I've collected many curiosities and even more pleasuresbh! Whatbh can my humble estabhlishment doooo~," his little nasty smirk becomes a big nasty grin, "-for youuu~?"
It was in Tutoria's nature to question and to answer questions... questions such as "why would such a heavily armored, weighty individual be placed upon such a rickety old tower?" Perhaps it was the first time he had been stationed there and no one had yet had time to consider the peril? Even as the question played upon her mind, she dismissed it. Not important. What was important was hurrying through the crowd to lose him. She lifted the skirt of her robe slight to aid her elfen-quick movements and keep pace with QuestMan. The brisk pace made holding hands perhaps less exciting than it normally might be.

Tutoria immediately noticed their ill fortune as the two of them reached the tent QuestMan had spotted earlier: namely, the guards here looked very similar to the pissed off one chasing her. It was quite possible they would soon receive a report of two tower-climbing rascals dressed in armor and robes, seen headed this direction. She could only hope that the guy was delivering this message by foot and not by remote communication; the net was a little fickle in that regard and she could imagine it being done either way.

So caught up was Tutoria in that possible future that she barely noticed the risque appearance of the giant lady beckoning them inside the tent. What was harder to ignore, however, were the many women all about who were looking at her strangely. She wasn't sure if it was because she was the only modestly dressed woman in the vicinity or because she was the only woman period... it appeared to be a more popular haunt for men. Well, no... everyone was avoiding the entrance. It seemed to be a surprisingly unpopular place in general, by that metric. She simply held her heavy book to her chest and walked a little quicker, but she wouldn't be deterred from entering in.

The inside of the tent was actually a pretty welcome respite, in terms of getting away from onlookers, noise, and dust. As it turned out, though, the company might be less than agreeable. "Wisdom says not to judge by appearances... but..." she thought to herself with a smile accompanied by a slight wince, finding it hard to accept the guy's manner of speech coupled with his ominous expression. She decided to send QuestMan a private message, bearing her immediate thoughts:


I'm sure you noticed all the guards by the door. If RunningMan is of such I'll repute in this marketplace as one must believe, there are only two possibilities: he either would be turned away if he tried to dash in here, or else, he would be quickly hidden as someone in cooperation with the establishment. I think our first goal should be to divine if our host is even aware of RunningMan. Unfortunately, he seems like the type who will be more talkative if we agree to... buy... something. Whatever it is he sells.

Tiny jolts of electricity lit up above her head as her damaged memory conveyed several different terrible ideas for how to approach the situation. She plucked one put and presented it. "Well met, Solonian. My companion here was very interested to inquire about your services. Perhaps you have some sort of demonstration you provide your customers?" she inquired, patting QuestMan's arm to reinforce the possibly needless cover story she had concocted. If he looked at her like it was odd she'd be seeking such a thing for her boyfriend, a spark shooting over her head provided another answer. "It's his birthday, you see! Ha ha... Would you terribly mind giving us a tour?"

For now, she knew that if they were harboring RunningMan, asking anything about his whereabouts straight away was begging for trouble from all those armed guards outside. The best she could do for now was to open more of the area up and see if she spotted him hiding somewhere, or perhaps another good source of information.
QuestMan did his heroic duty in holding onto Tutoria’s hand, shouldering through the throng in order to reach their destination. So far, there hadn’t been any hitches in their plan… However, it was still unclear if they were working towards real progress or a dead end. That said, QuestMan had more than one motivation for their current course.

The Navis came to a stop as they considered the obstacle among the exotic scenery in front of them. From the best QuestMan could put together, the crowd at the walls was full of prospects seeking tokens of favor from the women he had to assume worked within. The guards, of course, were probably positioned to act as bouncers for any gate-crashers muscling in without a token. Unfortunately, these ones didn’t have any inconveniently-proportioned towers to contend with, either.

While QuestMan strained his brain thinking of how he would make his approach, his friend-in-high-places threw him another lifeline. ”This handkerchief is surely my ticket in,” he thought to himself, running what response to her generosity would be most appropriate through his head before ultimately settling on a mouthed “thank you” and quickening his pace to keep up with Tutoria. For that matter, he observed his ally discretely to see if she’d had any reaction to the lovely lady who seemed so keen on him, as she must surely have noted her by now. Tutoria seemed to have other things on her mind, though, so he regretfully wasn’t treated to that.

Inside, QuestMan had imagined (hoped?) he would be treated to a receptionist as inviting as the women outside. What he got instead was Solonian, a transparently crooked shopkeeper. Instinctively, QuestMan took a step forward to put Tutoria behind. Since she took the lead in speaking, though, he realized this was a bit too blatantly defensive of a posture and stepped back in line.

Tutoria’s approach caught him off guard, as he’d been expecting they’d be probing for information. As far as information on the Pavilion’s services, there was really only one that had been flaunted in front of them… in truth, he was ninety percent certain he was being interpreted as having brought a ware to sell for that service, himself. That said, if he thought about it for a second, he had to admit they must have some trade business as well: otherwise, this tent probably wouldn’t have been recommended to them.

In a place like this, QuestMan needed a friend with some information. Right now, the one she thought might be most likely to have that information was the woman who had seemed keen on him before and who seemed uniquely posted to keep an eye on the comings and goings of the tent. He wasn’t oblivious to the possibility he was being lured into a trap… but every minute he engaged aimlessly with Solonian he felt surer he’d be lured into another, regardless.

As such, QuestMan made a point of displaying the handkerchief he’d picked up prominently but idly, waving it idly in his off hand while speaking. “Oh yes, we’ve heard there are all kinds of things to see here, and I’m hoping to treat myself! Haha ha… do you have any of those, such, um, treats?” he trailed off, cursing the nerves he thought he’d stifled but had surfaced in the weak delivery of his line.
Solonian's grin widened to the point of resembling a particularly slimy frog. "A bhirthdaybh, you say?" he leaned over his impressive belly towards QuestMan, peering intently into the youth's eyes. He giggled hoarsely, "You youngsters sure like adopting your Operatorbh's habits, don't you? So that makes you two...human-standard, as it were, a-bhuhuhuhu?" The greasy little concierge tittered behind a hand spangled with far too many rings, and snapped his fingers twice.

Two doors opened on either side of him. From out behind beaded curtains poked the heads of several women, long silken manes of hair draped over many pretty necks. "Oh laadies~" sang Solonian, "we have a bhirthday bhoy in our humbhle estabhlishment! Why don't you bhring him around bhack, and confer with his guhuhu-hirlfriend over what sort he might enjoy?" The women were slinking out now, four in total, ranging wildly in skin colours and outfits: one with opalescent skin and hair in a black corset and garters; a redhead in lingerie like shifting, bouncing vines who looked the perfect twin of QuestMan's earlier rooftop rendezvous, and a third, smaller than the others in both height and dimensions, led blindfolded by a collar and leash by the fourth, who was by far the bustiest of the lot. Both were pale-skinned and long-eared, garbed in fluttery silks that vaguely suggested medieval robes, but with a fraction of the usual coverage. The last in particular, Tutoria might notice, were looking a little more intently at her than their supposed customer.

Moving and pressing in close, the red and pink women each took a spot at QuestMan's side and ushered him through one door. Tutoria, in turn felt a hand in the small of her back, warm despite her many layers. The taller woman smirked and leaned in close. "So," she drawled lazily, pulling her through to a dim hallway. Idly she played with the scarf QuestMan had walked in with, "you two don't look our usual customers. First time, is it? Well now's the time to speak up if you have any...preferences. Otherwise you'll be leaving it up to those two, and I don't trust them not to get carried away." She gestured up ahead, QuestMan looked in danger of being whisked right off; time would tell how well (and willingly) he could fight off the advances of two women at once, both picking curiously at his tunic and helmet, dragging playful fingers along his chin.

Tutoria, for her part, wouldn't be able to help noticing that she herself was getting a tad pinned in. The taller woman seemed to treat personal space as an invitation, and the leash was digging in a most distracting way into Tutoria's side, where the little elf-woman trailed behind contentedly. Slender, curious hands reached out to see what new toy had been presented to her.
Ever the shrewd one (well, sometimes a shrewd one), Tutoria picked up on her hero's unease at being put into such an unscrupulous position, procuring the services of women for sexual services, potentially slaves at that. It only stood to reason that QuestMan, a hero not only by profession, but in terms of the virtue he must embody, would want to avoid such affairs if possible. In fact, even she had to begin to question her wisdom as they seemed to be moving very far from gaining any sort of leads about RunningMan's whereabouts or activities... and not just that, they were potentially being split up. She didn't imagine she'd be able to just walk in and get such an extensive free sample. Such immediate action was probably a good thing for most patrons, but not great for someone who was just trying to make a bluff.

Of course, even more worryingly: they'd only been given so much in their purse for this mission. It was pretty hard to imagine they'd been given enough to pay four performers such as this. Perhaps Solonian had been eager to roll out the red carpet write whatever number he wanted on the bill later... or perhaps he was thinking that even if they couldn't pay with zenny, he could add another elf-eared navi to his collection.

Eager to get things back on track, Tutoria piped up in a practiced, calm voice, trying to ignore the hands working to define the shape of her slender body beneath her form obscuring robe. "Oh, you see..." she began, before a crackle of thunder peeled out from overhead. "It's very important that the two of us stay together. He likes for me to participate, you understand?" she bluffed, sounding wholly in control of her faculties as she gave a suggestion that would only throw her further into the hole she'd dug for herself. "I'm afraid he wouldn't feel comfortable if we were split up." At this point, it might be hard for QuestMan to decide if he really wanted Tutoria around for what was going to happen or not.

Continuing with a focused demeanor, Tutoria smiled back to their host and spread her hands, palms upward. "There was also another matter I was hoping you could help us with. A navi stole something from the two of us, a birthday present- something more tangible and expensive- that I'd been hoping to give to my special friend. He was running so very quickly that we really couldn't tell where he went with it. Have you had anyone in this establishment, who you might describe as quick on his feet and perhaps in a great hurry?" she questioned. It wasn't the smoothest topic transition, but she needed to learn if they were wasting their time here or not... preferably before they started racking up expenses they could be charged for. She had a sneaking suspicion, however, that even if the proprietor knew something, he was going to play coy until they made it worth his while... it was really as though they'd walked in and locked themselves into a cage.

Only now, Tutoria seemed to also understand she'd probably created some kind of expectation that she'd be helping the girls with QuestMan. "Ah, well, it's... usually best if I watch at first. You understand. Like learning the words of a song before you jump in," she chuckled, hoping it didn't sound as awkward as she felt. Hopefully, they could quickly extract their information and keep moving. She smiled slightly to the other girls flanking her, with a look that was meant to be discrete and polite, but probably came off as encouraging instead.

Here she felt compelled to send QuestMan a message to keep his spirits up:


"QuestMan, I know the situation looks a bit grim right now, but please, continue to act the part as best you can. With any luck, we can collect our information from Solonian- or one of his girls- and then leave. Remember that this too is a trial for a hero to overcome, even if it is not the most glamorous or worthy of record.
QuestMan kept his eyes locked with Solonian’s, taking the eye contact as a test he needed to pass to keep up the disguise of his purpose. Of course, when the ladies came out, it would suit neither his purpose nor his preference to keep his eyes off them, so he allowed his eyes to wander as he liked. Of course, the young hero had never seen such things in person. Hopefully, playing it cool and pretending to be an experienced sampler was not part of Tutoria’s plan. The only thing that managed to tear the eyes of the hero from the bodies of the new arrivals was their faces, as his mind raced with the possibilities of what they might have in store for him.

“Preferences? Oh, no, I’m quite… easy to please…” QuestMan responded with half of his brain. It was probably truer to say that rather than not having any preferences, he couldn’t put thoughts to words for them at the moment. He noted the fingers on his helmet and gulped. “You have an eye for the helmet, I see? It is, of course, one of my… treasured possessions… er, to describe its legendary qualities now would be-“

”HORNY,” Macguffr noted from his scabbard.

“It has horns, yes,” QuestMan retorted in a hiss with an obvious flush across his face. He remembered Tutoria half out of a sense of guilt in being observed, but was happy to see she seemed to have a lifeline in mind to keep them together and on track. “Oh, yes! Yes, regarding my preferences, it is very important to have my lady… join in,” he finished, suddenly pausing and very transparently constructing a mental image of what he’d just described. He remained so engaged with that thought and the women that Tutoria would mostly be on her own in terms of pursuing their lead.

He finally snapped out of it as though caught in the act when he received Tutoria’s message. He hurriedly mustered all of his concentration to write a suitable response.


”Fear not, my Lady. No matter how undeniably grim the situation has become, or how I may become otherwise occupied or exhausted or bound, I will definitely offer you my protection!”
Walking through the silken curtains into the back was like passing into another world. The sounds of the market vanished as QuestMan and Tutoria were pulled in, a pair of shapely escorts flanking each one. QuestMan had the benefit of a woman hanging off his every word as the pair did their best to sell their respective personas, her hair and skin gleaming iridescent like soft, pliant opal. His 'sword of truth' and its questionable wisdom made her giggle merrily (and bouncily) against his arm. She looked...friendly, as did the vine-robed redhead beside her, who'd been content thus far to slink alongside QuestMan in silence. Without the smoky glamour of the front parlour (or perhaps the aura of grease Solonian exuded), their demeanors seemed to filed the sharper edges off and slipped into something a little more comfortable. Neither had offered names, though that was perhaps intentional.

Behind them, Tutoria was led by her fellow elven Navis. They too seemed a little less predatory in the brighter silks draped backstage, though whether they'd been putting on a front for Solonian's benefit or just messing with the intrepid duo of their own accord, it was impossible to say. Nonetheless, the taller woman's eyes were focused like laser sights on Tutoria, even as she swayed backward through the shifting silks like she was part of the building itself. "Well! A thief in our humble market! What a shocking turn of events!" QuestMan's arm candies both turned to trade a significant look with their coworker. "It's a terrible shame, the sorts of company we must keep," she mused to nobody in particular, and said nothing more.


The girls here are contractually bound against discussing their clientele. Wise of you to avoid doing business with Solonian, though.
The words appeared in Tutoria's head just as QuestMan's reply had, only without a name. The speaker identified herself a second later, when the redhead
turned to give a pointed look, first to Tutoria, then to a particular red-patterned curtain on the wall just ahead of them, watching another group of Navis duck behind it and vanish from view. Subtly slowing their pace down, she then went about grabbing, of all things, QuestMan's hand. She didn't say a word, or look towards him, or do anything besides marching the intrepid lad down the hall. More words appeared to Tutoria in short order as she casually twined an arm around him and squeezed it against her chest, giving QuestMan a great many things to focus on besides his surroundings.


Listen very carefully. If you are talking about the person I think you're talking about, then there is very little I'm able to say. All I can say is that there is a limited time in which I will be able to help you, and that window is shrinking. If you want my help, you'll need to find a way to shake off the rest of the girls, and follow me. I'll assist as best I can, just try not to draw attention to yourself.
"Oh wow, Ivy, is he your type?" The opalescent woman had noticed the hand-holding, and let QuestMan and his aptly-named friend know it with a whole lot of grinning and eyebrow-waggling. Ivy gave no reply but for a coy little smile. She breathed deep and pressed close, nestling his arm deeper into her cleavage, clearly encouraging without outright saying anything.

"Toldja," Busty jerked her chin up ahead to where the play had started intensifying. While Tutoria's attention was elsewhere, the bigger woman sidled in and grabbed an ample handful of her cloak, twisting it around her hand. "You weren't planning on going in dressed like this, were you? Hoy, Spindly, toss her a .GMO, why don't you?"

There came a tap on Tutoria's shoulder. Upon turning, she saw the littlest Navi bowed before her, offering up an innocuous data packet in both hands. If activated, Tutoria would find her bodysuit all but stripped away, along with most of her robe. The outfit was a mirror to Spindly's in all but colour: a little white half-cloak, fastened at the neck and covering absolutely nothing but the back and shoulders; a winding scrap of cloth that could possibly be called a bikini top, if bikinis fluttered like silk with every motion; a long, flowing loincloth covered only the essentials, and otherwise bared her hips in their entirety. "If it fits her, it should work on you, more or less," the ringleader looked Tutoria up and down appraisingly. "Why don't we help her get settled in, Spindly? Unless my eyes deceive me, she seems to this, wouldn't you say?" Spindly hummed her agreement, and once again proferred the .GMO file.