La Manchaland was hell. Then again, so was Wuthering Heights, and the Great Lake, and K Corp, basically this whole journey was hell, but especially so for Don Quixote with the recent excursion. Still, she maintained her persona, remaining the happy, passionate knight she was entrusted to be by the real Don Quixote, so many years ago.

It was a rare break for the Sinners of Limbus Company, a day without any distortions to hunt or golden bough to look for. A day off, so to speak. As you stepped out of the back of Mephistopheles, you noticed Don Quixote sitting by her lonesome, gazing off into the distance of the the city's skyline as her lance rests against the side of her seat.

When you approach, Don Quixote jumps slightly before looking at you with a slight pout. "Thou startled me." She says, leaning back in her seat. "Thou hast excellent stealth skills. Mayhaps, thou were a spy in a past life?" She chuckles to herself at the thought, grabbing a hold of her lance.

"So, what bringest thee to me? Dost thou seek company?" Don Quixote asks, a smile plastered on her face. "Or, mayhaps thou hast come to hear glorious tales of Fixers past!" She says excitedly, resting her lance between her legs. "Go on! Speaketh thy mind."