At first glance, Menagerie didn't look like much. Its military, which she assumed the motley, masked crew was, seemed the predominant occupants of this coastal town, if one could call it that. Behind the walls, most of the buildings looked entirely utilitarian, with some near the shore vaguely reminiscent of factories, though the smoke coming from them seemed rather white. Next to them were large basins of cordoned off seawater,which seemed to be cleared of fish and detritus,before being funnelled into the building. What came out was stuffed in bags, the contents of which she couldn't determine. The rest of the settlement looked more like a military base, with large barracks for workers and soldiers, both being mostly indistinguishable from another in terms of their uniform. Riven assumed the locals could tell them apart.

Every member of the populace here was a Vastaya. It kind of made her shoulder-blades itch a bit. While she didn't mind Vastaya, the general undercurrent of hostility towards the human in their midst was ever present. Riven had no doubts that if they didn't have standard operating procedures in place that stated something akin to 'information first, we can always kill them later' or similar, they'd have tried to do away with her already.

With her armed escort leading her on the beaten path to what seemed to be a large medical tent with several healers bustling about (she could tell, because they were dressed in dirty white-ish blue robes instead of body armour and doing things to the injured people that she vaguely recognised as medical), she soon found herself seated on a cot and waiting her turn.

"I'm Riven. I think you caught the rest when I met your leader. Seeing as we'll be spending a few hours together, would you like to give me your names?", she asked the two men who'd been assigned to her.

One of them, a tall, broad-shouldered fellow with far too much body hair to be comfortable in this heat merely grumbled in response. The shorter one, a nimble fellow with the tail of a mouse seemed to perk up however.

"I'm Nim and this is-", the small man stopped, however, as the hairy man made a firm, cutting off gesture with his hand. He gave a shrug and then went on to say: "Well, he doesn't really want to talk to you, I guess. Can't really blame him, heh, I mean, having a human here is kind of strange."

Riven set her massive blade down next to her and leaned back on her palms a bit. She kept her tone easygoing and chuckled: "Aye, I can imagine. You get stampedes like that often, here-abouts?"

The mouse man nodded quickly: "It's why most of these facilities are pretty much Huntsmen and Fang. In case you were wondering about, you know, all the terrorists." He said the last bit in a cheeky tone that got a growl from his otherwise silent companion. "He's touchy about that."

The human in their middle, however, was drawing a blank at the term. She rolled it around in her mind for a few moments, while looking around slowly. Eventually, she said: "They don't seem all too fearsome to me. Grunt is grunt when you get down to the meat of it."

"Bit of a bigwig where you're from, hm?", Nim fished.

"Eh,", she made a so-so gesture with her hand and wrinkled her nose. "I'm an exceptional fighter, but beyond the renown that gets me, I don't hold any real clout."

"Not a Huntsman, then?", he sounded curious now, for some reason.

Riven, however, shook her head in response. "Don't get me wrong. I've been from time to time, but right now, I'm looking for something else."

"Some Faunus steal your heart and run away to Kuo Kuana?", the mouse man's tone was teasing now, but more and more, Riven was starting to feel he'd been assigned as her escort for a reason.

As such, the injured soldier smirked and rolled her eyes: "Ask me again when I'm old enough to settle down. No, I'm looking for a human woman. Pale, white hair, slender build, incredibly bad attitude…"

"Oh, a family matter then? I probably should change the topic!"

Despite herself, Riven looked a mixture of horrified and revolted. The overt similarities between herself and Leblanc had never really stuck in her mind like that, but phrased in such a manner?

Her expression said more than her words, resulting in a fair bit of teasing from the small mouse man as a result. Something she responded to in good nature after the initial shock faded. In part, because it wouldn't do to make enemies early and in part, because she did on some level enjoy matching wits with someone. Maybe the Trifarian resurgence back home was rubbing off on her.

After about half an hour, seeing as nothing looked urgent on her end, one of the doctors, a fox-tailed woman with a sallow complexion, made her way over. She bade Riven to remove her armour, then grimaced at the sight of her mangled side.

"I suppose you haven't healed that with you aura because you're worried about shrapnel.", the doctor inquired.

Riven, who had no idea what aura was, simply affirmed: "Aye. I'd cut it out myself, usually, but with a dedicated professional on hand, I figured I'd best not."

The reactions of her escorts to that were subtle, but present. The hairy man leaned in a bit for a moment to actually look at her injury for a moment, while the mouse man whistled softly and uttered a barely audible "Ouch!"

The healer, meanwhile, was all business: "Please do refrain from such inanity unless it is absolutely necessary. I assume you've already received something for the pain?"

Riven hadn't. But something like this? After over a decade of non-stop combat and all that entailed, she barely even felt it any more. Probably not a good thing, in the eyes of modern medicine: "Aye, I'm all good there."

"Good. Sedatives should be used sparingly. Now, if you could lay on your side, please, so I can operate."

Riven complied, weathering the treatment and the stitches with the odd detachment of someone who'd been stabbed one too many times. Aside from the subtle twitches of her facial muscles when the doctor disinfected the wound or tugged out a particularly deep piece of shredded metal, she seemed largely fine. Eventually, however, it was done and the healer simply left the wound open.

"There. Now you can let your aura do the rest."

"You mean I don't need stitches?", Riven inquired with audible surprise.

"Of course not. Your aura will heal the injury on its own within the hour, perhaps even more swiftly. Though I suppose I could bandage it up so you don't bleed out. Hold still for a moment."

At this point, Riven was incredibly curious what this aura was and why it was assumed she had it. On the other hand, people had spoken of it with such a normality that the cautious portion of her mind bade her not to ask. She'd figure it out eventually. Besides, once she got some alone time, she was more than capable of doing the stitches herself. Until then, the compresses would have to suffice.

She didn't don her broken chest piece when it was done. With one side melted to slag and ripped open, it was more of a liability and likely to be forced into her body from a strong enough blow. Instead, she carried it and her sword in a bundle on her shoulder, while her two guards took her to a boat. She'd never quite seen one like it, but the catamaran, as Nim called it, seemed to make good speed past the mountainous shoreline.

It still took a good hour to reach Kuo Kuana, though aside from Nim's frequent and entertaining chatter, the journey could almost be called a rare breath of tranquillity for the errant swords-woman. The landscape was breathtaking as well, from the baby blue ocean and the colourful coral reefs skimmed past underneath their boat to the increasingly verdant shoreline, which definitely had her thinking back to her time in Ionia. Since by and large, she'd enjoyed it there with some rare exceptions, she couldn't help but smile a bit. The houses that passed by and eventually grew into a settlement were Ionian in style as well, with a good mixture of earthen tones and white wood making for a rather picturesque settlement. She also noted multiple terrace gardens, where what she assumed was rice was being farmed. There was precious little overt technology at first glance, though some of the ships in the harbour definitely looked Piltovan in design. One particularly gun-toting frigate might even have been based on a Noxian model. It definitely had that menacing edge that her people favoured in their weapons of war.

Such was the odd thing out in an otherwise peaceful seeming utopia full of animal people. Riven was sure that it had its issues under the surface, but the first breath of jungle air after ozone, blood and sand couldn't help make her feel a bit more at home than she had of late in Noxus's much drier climate. Her part of Noxus, at least. The Empire was incredibly large, after all, and she only knew a fraction of it.

She got some looks as she travelled along the docks. There was that name again, too. 'Schnee'. She'd have to look into it. Whoever it was seemed to be both well-known, far too similar to her in looks and widely loathed. Her best guess was a possible lead to LeBlanc at this point, but the smart part of her mind called that premature. Premature, but worth looking into.

Their path led them along the main street, towards an enormous manor in similar eastern style to the surrounding buildings, but with much more space in its environs. A large garden, a pond she'd bet her shorts was full of Koi and a comely looking middle-aged cat woman waiting for them at the door.

"How nice of you to bring us our guest.", the feline matriarch began. "I am Kali Belladonna. Welcome to Kuo Kuana. Now, do come inside. You must be exhausted from such a busy, busy day."

A friendly woman, but with a motherly firmness in her and a subtle mastery of social cues when she simply took Riven's arm and guided her inside. That she slammed the door right in her escort's faces definitely did not go unnoticed either.

"We're prepared a room for you in the Three Lucky Strikes Inn. We'll have your things brought there later.", she further told Riven. "For now, we'd be overjoyed if you joined us for dinner."

Utterly out of her element, Riven nodded and let herself be bustled along into a tastefully decorated dining room with a table at shin height and small pillows around it. Though, given the enormous size of the cat man at the head of the table, what would have otherwise looked normal in any Ionian household looked absolutely tiny. Which, in a way, made the darkhaired, bearded wall of walking muscle look even more impressive. Swain would definitely have approved of arranging things like this.

"Good evening. I am Ghira Belladonna, chieftain of Menagerie. For this eve, do enjoy the hospitality of my household.", the man greeted her in a confident, assured manner. This was definitely a leader of men in more than name.

Of course, where Kali's friendliness had completely wrong-footed her, Ghira's more formal greeting put her back in her element. She took a step back, removed her boots with an apologetic smile and then wandered in barefoot and with a slight bow given. Servility wasn't in her nature, but she found it unwise to disrespect someone in their own home. Naturally, this meant she left her armour and weapon bundle right there with them. Not like it would cost her more than a fraction of a second for the blade to come when she called.

"Riven, mercenary. I thank you for your hospitality, Chieftain Belladonna.", she then smiled and added, as she sat down at the table across from the man. "Really. You seem quite a bit more open than the Fang people I stumbled over."

Kali, at this point, sat down as well. In the following conversation, she kept herself in the background, though she was quick to refill Riven's cup or plate, seeming to keenly note what she liked to eat. Eventually, this would have Riven feeling somewhat spoiled and embarrassed.

Ghira, meanwhile seemed to take her at her word and gave her a slight nod: "A dangerous trade at the best of times. I know I have a reputation as a man of peace, but rest assured I have seen enough conflict to know the value of your profession. Especially out here on the fringes of the world. You did a good job with those Grimm, I'm told."

Had someone pre-empted their arrival? Of course. The healing hadn't been free. It'd been a delay!

"Thank you. It might've been a bit more of an issue without your Fang's machine guns.", she lied. They'd almost perforated her, after all! But, she lied with a wry smile and a sip of sake all the same.

"My Fang, yes.", the large man exchanged a glance with his wife there, then shook his head. "It hasn't been my Fang for about eight years now. But I suppose Faunus are the least of someone's concerns in certain parts of Mistral."

"I never had an issue with people, no matter what they looked like, if that's what you mean. We don't believe it matters, back home. Strength and what you could do for the people was everything.", she explained, keeping things vague for now. Too many places she'd never heard of.

"As I expected. I suppose you never went to an academy either.", Ghira mused, one hand stroking through his beard. "What exactly brings you to my Kingdom then? Aside from being shipwrecked, that is."

"I'm looking for a fugitive. She caused some trouble back home and it's on me to bring her in. Since you haven't mentioned another human here, I don't quite think we ended up in the same place, though." It was hard to hide the venom in her voice entirely, so Riven didn't bother. She hated the sorceress with all her body, mind and soul.

"Personal matters, then…", Ghira exchanged another one of those wordless glances with his wife. "Would you mind some work while you're here and recovering? It'd net you enough to resupply and get you a new scroll."

Whatever that was. Riven perked up regardless. She did need local coin, at least. Kingdoms were peculiar about their mints, in her experience. It was a point in Ghira's favour, though, that he eschewed the label 'King'. As a Noxian, she had views on hereditary power: "I'll hear your task, Chieftain."

The cat man was all smiles now, as if he'd caught the cream. He leaned forward a bit and began to brief her on her task. After that was done, the sake kept flowing til late in the night...