Donovan

With the same blasé attitude with which one might buckle a shoe, Donovan empties his innards into a latrine. Though his gastric system is far from functional, the pungent mixture of seawater, rancid cabbage, and necrotic bacteria manages to be perfectly vile all the same.

He mutters to a nearby Eta about feeling ill in the wake of great losses, and needing to go outside to clear his head. He passes within the vicinity of Kyorlin, but does not stop to speak unless his attention is called.

The sea's breath still shrouds the land, and the drowned man's task for this night is simply to investigate the city's layout, its water sources, and whether he might find a solution to his peculiar logistical conundrum. Naturally he is also looking to broaden others' perspectives, should a safe opportunity to do so arise.