The man named Hallador, a portly Taldan with a neatly trimmed, greying beard and the slightly harried look of one perpetually juggling manifests, turned at the sound of her voice. His eyes, the color of watered-down ale, flicked from her face, to the distinctive blue sheen of her hair, down to the naginata she carried, then back to her eyes. A flicker of surprise, quickly masked by a practiced neutrality, crossed his features. The sounds of Oppara's bustling harbor – the cries of gulls, the shouts of stevedores, the creak of timbers and the rhythmic slap of water against the pylons – formed a constant backdrop. The air was thick with the smells of salt, fish, tar, and the distant, enticing aroma of baking bread from somewhere deeper in the city.   "The Temple of the Upheld and Golden Rose, you say?" Hallador stroked his beard, his Taldane accent considerably thicker than hers. "Indeed. A noble destination. One of Oppara's, and indeed Taldor's, greatest glories. Not difficult to find, if you know the city. From here," he gestured with a thumb towards the mouth of the pier, leading into a wide, cobbled plaza, "you'll head straight through the Grand Arch of Triumph – you can't miss it, colossal thing. Continue up the Imperial Promenade. It's a grand thoroughfare, always busy. You'll pass the Lion's Court on your right after about ten minutes' walk. Keep going. The Promenade eventually slopes upwards towards the Senate Hill. The Temple… it dominates the western slope of that hill. You'll see its golden dome long before you reach it, milady. It catches the sun something fierce."   He paused, giving her a considering look. "A long journey it must have been, to seek Shelyn's grace here."   As he finished speaking, a brief commotion erupted a short distance away, near the edge of the pier where smaller fishing boats were unloading their catch. A young woman with brightly dyed crimson hair, clutching a lute, was arguing heatedly with two members of the Opparan City Guard. Her voice, though strained, carried a musical lilt even in anger. One of the guards, a burly man with a sneer, gestured dismissively at her lute, while the other was writing something on a small, official-looking scroll. The girl seemed distressed, on the verge of tears, and clutched her instrument protectively.   The stares Satomi had felt on the ship seemed to have lessened now that she was on solid ground amidst a throng of people, though she still felt the occasional curious or appraising glance. The sheer diversity of people in Oppara – Taldans in their finery, rough-looking sailors from a dozen lands, merchants in exotic silks, and common folk going about their business – was a spectacle in itself.   Hallador, noting her gaze might have drifted towards the disturbance, cleared his throat. "Minor civic matters, I'm sure. The City Guard keeps a tight rein on… unlicensed performances. Can't have noise disturbing the peace, can we?" He offered a thin, official smile.

Satomi smiles politely at him even as her mind ponders worriedly. "Certainly not." She offers him a bow, before turning on her heel and departing- not to follow his directions (not yet, anyway,) but to the disturbance at the edge of the pier. As she moves closer to them, she takes comfort not only in the comforting weight of the naginata in her hand, but also that her Daishō and hidden dagger- Satomi has rarely been the first to reach for a weapon, but they are a comfort and reassurance, regardless.   She deliberately allows the clack of her sandals to notify the participants of her arrival. "Your pardon, gentlemen, but this disturbance is drawing the eyes of many visitors to your fair city- such as myself. What is the cause of this disharmony?" Satomi's time in Amanandar has taught her how Taldane nobles speak and act- she inserts herself subtly, but confidently, as though it were unthinkable that she should be anywhere else, attempting to mediate this argument. She smiles up at them- politely, properly, but earnestly.

The clack of Satomi's sandals on the wooden planks was a distinct sound, cutting through the general hubbub of the docks. It did, indeed, draw the attention of the three figures involved in the dispute.   The two City Guards turned. The burly one, whose face had been set in a sneer as he addressed the musician, blinked, his expression shifting to one of surprise, then a touch of wary respect as he took in Satomi. Her height, her undeniably exotic features, the calm confidence in her bearing, and the glint of well-maintained steel at her hip and in her hand – all of it marked her as someone out of the ordinary, and likely of some standing. The other guard, who had been writing on the scroll, looked up, his pen pausing. He was leaner, with a more officious air.   The crimson-haired musician, who had looked moments from despair, also turned. Her eyes, wide and a startling shade of green against her brightly dyed hair, fixed on Satomi. A flicker of hope, mingled with caution, crossed her face. She clutched her lute a little tighter.   The more officious guard spoke, his tone a marked contrast to the dismissive one he'd likely been using with the musician. It was still firm, but laced with a degree of politeness one reserved for a potential superior or someone whose status was uncertain but best not offended.   "Milady," he began, his eyes briefly flicking to the sheathed naginata, then back to her face. "Your pardon. We are merely enforcing the city ordinances. This... individual," he gestured towards the musician, though with less overt disdain than before, "was performing for coin without the necessary writ of sanction from the Ministry of Arts and Performers. It is a matter of public order and proper licensing." He tapped the scroll he held. "A simple citation, and a confiscation of illegal earnings, is standard procedure."   The burly guard grunted in agreement but remained silent, seemingly content to let his partner handle this unexpected interruption. He still looked a bit put out, like a bulldog whose bone was being eyed by a larger, sleeker canine.   The musician opened her mouth as if to protest, then seemed to think better of it, glancing nervously between the guards and Satomi.   The guard continued, addressing Satomi, "We mean no undue 'disharmony,' milady. Oppara thrives on order. Unregulated busking can lead to... less savory elements taking advantage, and it undermines those performers who do follow the proper channels."   His explanation was delivered with an air of bureaucratic justification, but thanks to Satomi's composed and confident intervention (and the implicit success of her diplomatic approach), he was at least explaining himself rather than simply dismissing her. The atmosphere had noticeably de-escalated. The eyes of a few curious onlookers were indeed on the scene, their interest piqued by the arrival of the striking, armed woman.

Satomi makes no move to disagree with them. "Of course," she says, inclining her head politely, "Just laws must always be upheld, yet I have a sense for...goodhearted people, and even the purest soul can make an honest mistake. My Lady," she says, addressing the redhead directly for the first time, "I am sure you did not *mean* to circumvent the law. How much has your honest ignorance cost you today?" Her voice is gentle; soothing, but not weak, and that small but disarming smile remains on her face all the while.

The crimson-haired musician looked up at Satomi, her green eyes wide and shimmering with unshed tears. When Satomi addressed her directly, with such unexpected kindness and understanding, a visible wave of relief washed over her. She swallowed, her grip on her lute loosening slightly.   "Oh, milady," she stammered, her voice still a little shaky but gaining a touch of its natural musicality. "Truly, I... I didn't know. I only arrived in Oppara two days past. I was told... well, I suppose I was misinformed. I thought a simple song to brighten the day would be welcomed." She glanced nervously at the guards, then back to Satomi, her expression earnest.   "They... they said I owe a fine for unlicensed performance, and they've taken the few coppers I'd earned this morning. It was only..." She bit her lip, looking down at her worn boots for a moment, then back up with a hint of defiance mixed with her plea. "It was twelve copper pieces they took. And the citation," she gestured vaguely towards the scroll the guard held, "I don't even know what that means for future... if I can even play again."   The more officious guard observed this exchange, his expression unreadable but no longer stern. He did not interrupt, allowing the musician to speak. The burly guard shifted his weight, his gaze still on Satomi, but the aggressive set of his jaw had softened slightly.   The musician continued, her voice dropping a little, "My name is Regina, milady. Regina Meadowlight. I came seeking... inspiration. And perhaps a chance to study at one of the bardic colleges, if I could ever afford it." A small, faded carving of a bird in flight, perhaps a songbird, was visible etched into the dark wood of her lute's headstock, a detail Satomi's artistic eye might pick up.   The officious guard finally cleared his throat, not unkindly. "The confiscated earnings are forfeit, as per the ordinance. The citation is a formal warning. A second infraction would incur a steeper fine of five silver pieces and potential confiscation of the instrument until the license is obtained." He paused, then added, looking at Satomi, "The Ministry of Arts and Performers is located in the Artisan's Quarter, near the Gilded Lyre. They process applications for performance writs. There is, of course, a small administrative fee."   He seemed to be laying out the facts, perhaps anticipating Satomi's next move, but also providing the necessary information should she wish to help the girl navigate the bureaucracy. The implicit message was: the law is the law, but the consequences of this particular infraction, for a first-timer, could potentially be mitigated by someone willing to smooth things over.

Satomi nods quietly, digesting the information. "Pay your fine, Madame Meadowlight- the law must be upheld. Then, we shall go together to this 'Ministry' and I will cover the cost of your license. Is that amenable to you?" She hesitates, and then a hint of sheepishness enters her smile. "I am new to Taldor, and unfamiliar with its ways. In lieu of payment, perhaps you might speak to me about your homeland? It is so very different to my own." She then appears to notice the guards. "Gentlemen, I trust there no problems with this? The laws of this land are still strange to me..." she trails off uncertainly, but a skilled speaker might notice the uncertainty for the affectation that it is.

Regina's eyes widened further, disbelief warring with dawning joy. "Pay...? Milady, you would... you would truly do that?" Her voice trembled slightly, not with fear this time, but with overwhelming gratitude. When Satomi added the request for conversation about Taldor in lieu of payment, a genuine, radiant smile broke through the musician's earlier distress, chasing away the last hints of tears. "Oh, yes! Gladly! I would be honored! I may not know the grand halls of Oppara yet, but I can tell you of the villages along the Porthmos, or the songs they sing in the Verduran Forest! Anything you wish to know!" She bobbed a quick, slightly clumsy curtsy, clutching her lute now almost like a shield of newfound hope.   Satomi's polite, slightly uncertain query directed at the guards drew a measured response from the officious one. He gave a crisp nod, seemingly accepting her explanation of unfamiliarity at face value – whether he truly believed it or simply recognized the diplomatic nicety didn't matter. It smoothed the interaction.   "Milady Saito," he said, his tone professional now, the earlier bureaucratic stiffness somewhat lessened. (He likely caught her name when she introduced herself, or perhaps overheard it). "There is no problem whatsoever. The fine, as mentioned, is covered by the twelve coppers already confiscated from... ah... Madame Meadowlight." He subtly adjusted his phrasing, showing a touch more respect now that she was under Satomi's implied patronage.   He held out the small scroll. "This citation is merely a formal record of the infraction and a warning. Madame Meadowlight will need to present it should she apply for her writ, as proof this matter has been addressed. There is no further penalty at this time, provided she seeks the proper license before performing publicly for coin again." He offered the scroll not to Satomi, but respectfully towards Regina.   The burly guard gave a short, consenting grunt and a slight inclination of his head towards Satomi, a silent acknowledgment that seemed to convey 'No trouble from us, lady.'   Regina took the scroll with slightly trembling fingers, nodding her understanding to the guard.   "Then the matter is concluded," the officious guard stated. "We appreciate your cooperation in resolving this peacefully, milady. Welcome to Oppara. We shall return to our patrol." With another nod, he and his partner turned smartly and resumed their walk along the docks, their presence fading back into the general activity of the harbor.   The small crowd of onlookers, sensing the minor drama had reached a satisfactory conclusion, began to drift away, returning to their own business. The sounds of the harbor seemed to rush back in to fill the space.   Regina turned fully to Satomi, her green eyes shining. "Milady Saito... I... I don't know how to thank you. You arrived like... like a song on the wind." She clutched the citation in one hand and her lute in the other. "The Ministry of Arts and Performers, you said? In the Artisan's Quarter? I... I think I know vaguely where that is. Shall we... shall we go now?" She seemed eager to follow through, both to secure her license and, perhaps, to spend more time in the company of her unexpected benefactor.

Satomi inclines her head to the guards one final time before replying to Regina. "Certainly." She looks away, past the pier and the docks to the city beyond. "I fear I do not know the way- I only just arrived. Would you lead on, Madame Meadowlight? The question is rhetorical, of course, given that Satomi has all but admitted she does not know the way to the Artisan's corner.   As the pair set off into the city proper, Satomi decides that it would not hurt to get to know Regina better. She begins to make conversation. "I notice the songbird set in the headstock of your instrument; are you a follower of the- of Lady Shelyn?" Satomi's tongue trips slightly as she almost uses the Tian Xian term for the goddess. The fingers of her left hand reverently stroke the silver, songbird-shaped brooch on her right shoulder as she speaks of her patron goddess. Her right hand continues to clutch her naginata as she uses it as a walking staff. It is sheathed with a saya- a wooden scabbard intended to protect it from the environment. Nonetheless, its shape is clear, and she eyes onlookers and passers-by to gauge their reaction to her carrying it: is it acceptable? Is it frowned upon? And why? The ways of this land are still strange to her, for Amanandar is merely a colony of Taldor, not Taldor itself; she can speak its language, but she must still learn its ways, so that she does not continue to stick out like a sore thumb.