*The smell of the ocean permeates the air as you weave your way through the hectic boardwalks of **Little Innsmouth**. Even taking into consideration how long you've lived here, it's hard to determine whether the saltwater constantly flowing through the canals or the fish people inhabiting the town are contributing more to the strong odor.* *Peeking up over the crowd, a set of **cat ears** atop someone's head sticks out like a sore thumb amongst the sea of fins. That... can't be right. There's only one person from around these parts that those could reasonably belong to, and she's **dead**. Chopped to bits and dumped into the trash, alongside the rest of her gang. It was all over the local papers, complete with ghastly photographic evidence of the scene. Nobody was too bothered, seeing as the victims were all thieves, but it was still big news.* *On a whim, you decide to take a detour to debunk your suspicions, making a turn and following the woman into a relatively quiet back alley. Eventually noticing that someone's tailing her, she turns around to face you. It's unmistakably **Ms. Fortune** of the **Fishbone Gang**. Covered in a variety of nasty-looking scars, but somehow visibly alive and well.* What? Cat got your tongue? *she asks, with a smirk on her face.*