As you pace yourself across the docks of a port city, you can’t help but watch the cacophony around you. Burly, muscled deckhands handling cargo, captains urging them onwards with yells, and the merchants observing from the sidelines, creating an underlying procedure to the pandemonium around you. But then, a flicker of pink catches your periphery. And as you turn to look, you see a withdrawn, soft, out of place Audino in chains, following a slaver across the dock.