The Crimson Sparrow

"And now you forgot all about me again," grumbled Ameren when her sword easily slipped past Havaldr's shoddy attempt of a block, letting the flat side of the blade smack down on his arm. "Back to the start."

She padded silently through the hallway, one hand on the wall to keep herself from stumbling in the darkness. A noise from up ahead caused her to halt mid-step, her heart racing. She didn't dare to breathe, her eyes opened wide to try and detect whatever it was.

Kayrin smiled at the emerging stars, although they told her, she had steered the ship too much toward the South. She turned the tiller calmly, correcting their course. An Eglan steering a ship at the open sea. How wonderfully strange, she thought. Ameren or Sugar Plume as she liked to call her, appeared to be sleeping on the deck, she glanced at her briefly, imagining what sort of a woman she was.

"Lond Daer? It was once a great and proud harbour of the Númenóreans, now it's a free port and a haven for all manner of seafaring outlaws, scoundrels, rogues, and smugglers. It's still mostly a crumbling ruin that's been abandoned to the ages, but near the docks it has been rebuilt, then that's rotted and been partly rebuilt again, and that bit is bustling with all the activity of a small town.