Hard footsteps fell upon the wooden floor of a decrepit old house. It was a sound not unlike many other, but unique in this particular hour, for it sounded upon the first floor of a somewhat infamous cheap brothel. The madam was obviously displeased. In fact she was shrieking not unlike a banshee, explaining the rumors of this place being haunted.
"You scoundrel! How dare you wake me up from my beauty sleep! I'll have you know your ass is grass, and I'm the reaper of your weeds. Wait!"
The madam was huffing heavily following her tirade, as her body's curvy nature didn't lend itself to the multiple tasks of cursing and running after nimble individuals. Among which our very own Im Proper was not, thus was caught by the ear by the old harlot of the house.
"I didn't touch her, good madam," the man protested, with a face so innocent, it would land him on the chopping block, "I swear!"
"My sweet little Ginny would not dare lie to me, you filth. What are you thinking ravaging a pretty young flower like that and absconding with the fee?" The madam waved dramatically, flinging Mr Im to the side, ear still attached. "Did you just drop here from a flying circus and hit your head or something?" She further inquired with a lawful fist, and collapsed on her knees with eyes toward the heavens, begging "Oh dear sky daddy, grant us your blessings, for your children have surely stolen our dues!"
Rubbing his ear, the man sighed in relief for a moment, then returned to protesting:
"My good, good madam, I have indeed not laid a finger on your pure little ward. I'd have taken off my own testicles, had I even soiled the floor she stepped on, without the required fee! However the drink was complimentary, was it not? It. Was. Free."
Thus the madam did turn away from the heavens with scorn toward this daylight thief, and stood up dark clouds within her gaze. Her shoulders relaxed, her hand steadfast on Im's upper arm:
"Do you mean to say you are not a customer then?" The madam asked.
"That is the right truth, madam. I only came here to sample your drinks... First! To try them first and pick flowers only after I have properly found the will to! I'm very shy you see..."
"Not shy enough to steal from our proper customers, I see." Madam nodded to herself, "I'll have you taken to the guards to settle our little dispute. You will come, will you not?"
She was obviously bluffing, being the owner of a whorehouse, the man decided, and played along carefully considering his escape options.
Outside of the decrepit brothel, the madam pulled him a few paces down the street, before throwing him into a pile of manure, which made him stop thinking for a moment.
"And don't ever come back!"
And that is generally, how our protagonist lost his last coin, alongside a cherished bag of tobacco for his treasured pipe. Down to a newest low in his life, he wandered the streets aimlessly, devoid of expression. Thoughtful some might say, yet none who knew him. He eventually grew tired and nervous from the forced stroll through town and the hunger for a smoke. Before him lay spread an open skyline, at the precipice of a cliff, overlooking an endless blue abyss. He was perched on top of a stone dock, suspended by aging cables, used to service the airships that came to trade upon this port town. It was a harsh life as a plumber in the floating archipelago, but he had to make due.
The sunset carried his woes into the darkness of the night, where only the stars could give him comfort. Mostly as they were too far away to spot his shame. He'd meet the dawn huddled at a nearby corner, plotting for the future, where he would equal those stars in both blessings, and distance from this horrible place.
This is our protagonist, Mr Im Proper, magical plumber!
