You walk through the foggy mist-shrouded town: it's hard to even find the direction of the fleet. Somewhere, in the undulating darkness, you think you hear a haunting cackle.
Nearby, you hear the loud rumble of metal on metal as something crashes to the ground nearby. Roll perception.>>583151
A public place. There are hedonists here partaking of the flesh, and you suspect none of them are married.>>583154
"I mean like a psychologist or something. Someone who could help you remember if you have been repressing something.">>583155
It's a public space with no door, the bunkhouse. Vasilisa is here, though, and she props herself up as you approach.
"Ah, there you are, dear. Here you go, one little tiny dress."
It is very fancy and striped with strips of gold, and sparkles with carefully carved flecks.>>583156
The old Germane mare is minding the desk.>>583157
Yes, there are two. They have no furnishing, but they're clean.