[For someone who had the esper ability to glean information down to the finest and minuscule detail, Lien knows that this may be one of those cases where she should just roll with the punches. Of course, crashing headfirst into a world of magic, dragons, and normalized violence may warrant some kind of explanation and the only thing she could come up with was a "wormhole" of sorts. She was curious when she found it in the back of her broom closet and her investigator side magnetized her to the phenomenon. Here are the listed reasons of how this was a Not Great™ idea Lien Kha immediately penned in her head once this happened:

a) Getting cornered by severe looking and nasty men who are wondering what the hell she was wearing and why she didn't have an accent.

b) Figuring out they were slavers because they pushed her into a group of terrified people with, most with pointy ears which lead to:

c) Defending herself with the tried and true method of SING ("Solar-Plexus Instep Nose Groin! It's a great party trick!" she says to the stupefied prisoners.)

There were a lot more reasons but it was cut short when an all too familiar elf with white hair and major issues came in to make the save. Literally, he cut them down, it was rather gruesome and Lien was pretty sure she would have to clean her denim jeans to get the tiniest sprays of blood out of the fabric. God.

So here she is, in a dilapidated mansion in the city of Kirkwall. She sits at the table, legs crisscrossed, slightly messy long hair, and a crack across one of her glass lenses. She has a wooden cup of... Wine? Yup, that's probably what it is. Lien sniffs it, wrinkles her nose, shrugs and takes a sip before talking to her generous host.]

You know... The good news is, I'm pretty sure I can go home no problem. The bad news is, I wanna catch up with you Mr. Sunshine Man.