
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.