(( OOC: plot description and discussions --> https://www.iwakuroleplay.com/threads/the-passing-earth-ooc.117206/ )) The old harbor of Portsmouth had been lost to the ocean. As if by an act of the gods, a murderous wave had struck down the seaside walls and flooded the city years ago. Even after the water receded the tides never quite returned to normal. Most of the lower district was submerged, taller buildings now serving to dock and store boats much like one of the sunken wharfs would have. Personal rafts and a few longboats were anchored as well as the occasional cog. The city once boasted a few galleys of their own but there was no place for them now, and no new harbor had been built. A lot of hope had been lost in that one disaster. A lot of lives and homes. The city fell to pieces, now a scrap pile for the rats and Portsmouth's underbelly was ready to take advantage of it. With the majority of it's wealth and business gone, now all that remained was a seedy hub of criminal activity. The tide lapped up and down one of the lower district's paths. It was easy to imagine oneself walking further down that road, under the waves, and into the watery city below. A drowned wasteland. What kind of ghostly vision lay beneath the waves? Mythas took in the sight of the city and mused to himself. He had never been through Portsmouth before but was aware of its widespread infamy. Walking down it's streets he could feel the stares of the locals. It was no subtle thing. Strangers eyeballed him while hunched over their chores or chewing on tobacco. Filthy looking children had crowded the streets to beg or sell jewelry made of cheap stone and twine. One had tried a go at his purse but was still too young and a clumsy pickpocket. He had caught the girls wrist but turned her loose when she tried to scream. She slipped back into the throng and out of sight. It wasn't worth trying to follow. Not long before he had caught a glimpse of a reedy looking man caressing a knife on his belt, tongue pressed to his teeth, and well hunkered in the shadows. If it hadn't been midday Mythas reasoned the man may have attempted to mug him. He did stand out and that was partly Mythas' own fault. Mostly due to the instrument case strapped to his back and his choice of attire. Some of his appearance wasn't so strange however. He looked like any ordinary fellow, if a bit long. His brown hair reached to his shoulders, some pieces braided, and his green eyes didn't look outright unusual. But unlike the local rabble his clothes were clean and well kept. His choice in material vibrant and less practical. His boots were also fine and new. Some may have wagered his purse was plenty fuller than it actually was by his presentation alone. He took a moment to tip a feathered cap at a stranger. He had nearly ran the poor fellow over when he had watched the girl flee. Beneath his hat Mythas was wearing a secondary cap that reached passed his ears, an odd coif with beaded tie strings. He added a small sweep of his violet cloak and a bow of the head to the stranger. “Apologies, my good man.” He offered genially. The local glared at him before he spat at Mythas' feet and hurried into the crowd. “Charming city.” Mythas tried with some humor, “You left The Westlands for this. Mythas you have the brightest ideas.” After a sigh he patted his instrument case fondly. Though not a welcoming crowd they may have coin or a good meal to offer a decent bard. He may get a free stay in one of the less seedy areas, if one existed here. Somehow he doubted that. Even so he had other business before worrying over lodging.