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The tin man wasn't so concerned. Sure, putting holes and even destroying buildings can attract attention to ones self; attention it wasn't looking for. Hence why it struck out at the back wall.

So while the first part of the buildling was falling down and the rest soon coming with it this little monster crushed through the back wall, knocking out another corner of the building for its destruction to be complete.

This move took it into another building. From the supplies it looked a backery; but it wasn't there long as it dashed to its left and went through another wall.

So much for stealth.

"You're looking for what?"

Ilia sighed. She'd been expecting that response. "A sand dollar that shrinks things," she repeated herself.

The merchant burst out laughing.

"Hey, it wasn't my idea!" The teal-haired woman slammed a palm down on the table, which abruptly cut off the man's laughter. A woman she may be, but she was clad in impressive, though light armor...mostly leather and reinforced wood. And though she bore no weapons, her demeanor was that of someone who'd seen her fair share of brawls, and started more than a few.

But she had no further interest in the merchant. She summarily turned and walked away, muttering under her breath about stupid lords and ignorant merchants...

By great coincidence, Ilia happened to notice Kalis as she was walking towards the nearest building that sold alcohol. She gave him one of those weird looks he'd been trying to avoid, and stopped to ask him,

"What the hell happened to you?"

Without eating it, Ilia couldn't tell plaster dust from flour.

"Get into a fight with a bakery?"

And then the boat finally hit land. It rolled up onto shore with the aid of one last powerful stroke, and Athan relaxed his arms for the first time that he had woken up that day. All in all, the entire journey had taken him three days, give or take a few hours, of constant rowing. Needless to say, when hit shore, he wasn't in a hurry to get out and start searching the area.

He stuffed a cracker into his mouth, washed it down with the last of his water, and stood up to stretch. Aside from the irritating back pain from sleeping with his swords still slung across his back, Athan determined that he was, all in all, good condition.

After about ten minutes of stretching and relaxing, Athan hopped out of the wooden craft, turning back to it in order to retrieve his duffle. After that, he turned away from the small vessel and headed towards the boardwalk, bag slung over his left shoulder, two large weapons on his back, and one attached to his waist. Hopefully no one saw him row up to shore. The last thing he wanted was to be confused for some sort of pirate, and Athan was hoping for directions in order to find a place to either stay for the night, eat at, or drink in.

All things considered, he had his hopes set on the last of the three.

The door to the tavern opened and there was a soft clinking of chains as a figure moved through the crowd. The woman who entered might appear rather strange to some, if not most, of the patrons. She was a deathly pale woman with long black hair, not that strange, right? Ok, perhaps her coppery eyes were strange. Those not so strange. Then how about the scales that wrapped around her neck and down her chest, around her wrists, and around her ankles.

Of course, her attire was a little strange as well. She was dressed like a woman of the desert, a dancer from sheik's court. Of course there were the shackles and chains as well, one around each wrist and ankle and one around her neck with a thin silver chain dangling from each. And then there was the blindfold that created the top of her veil.

Blindfolded or not, the woman seemed to have no problem making her way through the crowd. She moved amongst the people, making her way towards the bar. She had very little in the way of money, only a little that she had taken upon her last master's death and some made through various other means. She used a little of it to buy herself a meal and a drink as she settled into a chair at the bar.

Indeed, he wasn't that good at thieving. She reached out to grab the purse with the closest hand before he could make off with it. She wasn't stupid, she knew that that was a move generally used by thieves. "Foolisssh man. You should be assshamed of yourssself. Ssstealing from a blind woman. If you want a drink, you have only to asssk." The s's came out in a hiss as she spoke. She turned blindfolded eyes to look at him.

"I have no desssire to involve authority figuresss, ssso why don't you take a ssseat and have a drink on me."

Why was she being nice? Because no one who is a slave is mean unless directed to be so, because anyone is a potential master. "Bar tender, if you don't mind re-filling thisss man'sss glasss, I'll pay." She offered up the proper payment for the drink before returning her purse to it's place and turning back to her meal.

"Kaissssser." The name rolled off her tongue, the s coming out a bit longer than her normal hiss, as if she was pleased with the way it came out. "I like that name. I'm Adrienne and I am what I'm told to be." He could gather from that what he wanted to gather, but she wasn't about to say she was a slave aloud in the middle of a tavern full of drunkards.