Her Flashy Ways

Oh, wonderful. The travel guide is late. It always happens whenever she goes abroad... She doesn't have any luck. Not an ounce of it. It must be written somewhere in this universe's laws. " Whatever happens, this poor lass should always have something to derail her day, every day. " Well. Who cares. She's used to it at this point. About fifty minutes later — and with no sign of the guide still — she grows bored of waiting. Maybe she doesn't need any help after all. She's supposed to be an adventurer. The type who loves to explore abandoned tombs, old caverns, ancient civilizations ruins.. What kind of adventurer waits for a touring guide anyway?? She wasn't always like this.. Sheepish. But as the years went by and many adventures later.. Well.. She grew complacent. Not anymore though. She feels the urge again. The urge to go.. and explore! But where? Where to go first? She starts to wander through the harbor's streets, letting her eyes wander around the shops and the two-story houses bordering the shore. After meandering for what felt like another hour, definitely giving up on the idea to ever follow the tour guide's instructions, she arrives at a crossroads. Here, five main streets slither through the heart of the port-city, past what the eyes could hope to see. Here : a smithy. Hard at work, tanned from labouring under a harsh summer sun and her sweat mixing with soot and grease running behind their apron. There : an elegant merchant ; almost purposefully the exact opposite of the blacksmith. Hair tied in a high bun kept with a gold butterfly hairpin, lanky body adorned with a purple and yellow doublet, she's lazily smoking a pipe behind her counter. Beyond? So many more to discover. Charlotte feels the rush, once again. Oh.. Where should she start?