She emerges onto a broad expanse of green, rising and falling in low terraced hills, sloping down toward a sparkling shore.

The nearest obvious landmark, other than the sea, is a sprawling citadel in the middle distance whose main tower looks out over the water from a soaring height that hints at the involvement of magic in its construction.

Looks like the chron came through for her. 

She steps out of the door, hefting her pack, and looks out at the vista before her. Close enough to civilization; best she goes in looking closer to the apparent local tech level. 

Setting down her pack on the other side of the door, she knocks, and the door vanishes. She takes her pistol off her belt and stashes it in her pack; then she zips it back up, and with a word over the zipper's runes she camoflagues the whole pack. 

Picking it up and putting it back on, she looks around momentarily for a road. If none seems obvious, then she'll simply set out cross-country towards the citadel. Once it starts getting dark, she'll consider finding an inobtrusive location to camp.

There's a road, paved in broad flat stones, not far up the slope. It makes long graceful arcs between the hills, following the coast toward the citadel. She might have to camp if she dawdles, but at a brisk pace she'll make it to the outer gate by sundown.

She makes a brisk pace. This body is better than standard in a few ways; less fatigue is one of those ways. 

The gates are open when she arrives. Two tall, muscular women stroll out arm in arm as she approaches; they pass a shorter girl coming up from the beach and exchange friendly nods. As the couple leaves, the shorter girl glances back along the road toward Thorn, and lingers in the shadow of the gate waiting for her to come close enough to chat.

Something about the muscular couple trips Thorn's instincts. She might be being overly paranoid, but they seemed a bit... like her. 

She doesn't even touch her athame. Practice has trained that bad habit out of her long ago. But she's a shade wary as she falls in at the shorter girl's side. 

Best to open the conversation herself. "Hello there." 

"Hey," she says amicably. "I'm Pirin. What's your business with the Tower?"

The Tower is clearly magical/leadership, but all people in the city have business with the Tower,  I'm challenged for it at the gates, the people who raised it control the city...

I could go with "artifact dealer", but in this situation I think it's best to make honest contact with the de facto lords.

"Ambassadorial," Thorn says. "I've come bearing gifts from a long, long way away." 

"Huh," she says. "Sounds official. Well, come inside, I can show you as far as the Treasury office and I'm sure they'll have a better idea of who to talk to than I do."

Past the gate, the space inside the outer walls has the look of a charming little preindustrial town. Timber-framed buildings overhang the narrow streets, cantilevered out to gain a few extra feet of room in their upper floors; in a few places, they lean far enough from either side to meet in the middle and turn a cross street into a tunnel, although the main boulevard remains open to the waning daylight.

There are people everywhere, in a broad array of shapes and sizes and colours. Every single one of them, from the stocky warrior with a sword at her belt to the slim teenager climbing out a second-story window and up toward the roof, is a woman.

Every one of them a woman. I've seen matriarchal cultures before, or simply worlds where there are only women and reproduction is handled otherwise, but while not unique it's certainly worth noting. The architecture seems to bear out that the pistol was unneeded. It'll be a decent treasure-piece to pull out and demonstrate later though. 

She restrains her tongue for now. "Thanks for showing me around." 

"It's no trouble, I was headed that way already."

She strides confidently down the street, exchanging brief greetings with about half the people they pass. Even the ones who don't personally know her seem to recognize that there's something foreign about Thorn; she attracts curious glances as Pirin leads her toward the Tower.

She's been stared at much more openly than this. She follows Pirin towards the tower and throws casual waves at one or two curious glances.

"So what's your name, anyway? If you don't mind me asking."

Best to be scrupulously honest if I'm going this route. 

"I'll choose a name at the end of this mission; until then, my calling is Thorn."

"...huh," she says thoughtfully. "Well. Not my business, I guess. Will Treasury know you're coming, or is this an unannounced visit?"

"Unannounced. I've been sent to make contact with the tower, but they've never heard of the people I represent before. Hopefully I'll be able to convince them to listen to me."

"I don't think you'll have any trouble with that," she says, smiling slightly.

Thorn smiles. "Thank you for the vote of confidence." 

She laughs a little. "We're a pretty curious bunch around here, it doesn't take much to get us to listen to somebody. You are pretty interesting, though."

The street curves toward the Tower and narrows slightly, and Pirin nods up ahead at an elaborate gate that spans its whole width. "Not much farther; Treasury is just a couple turns past the gate. I'll introduce you to whoever's at the desk today."

Thorn nods amiably. "You all know each other pretty well around here, huh?" 

"It's not that big a place. And I work in shipping, I'm in and out of Treasury all the time. I wouldn't know all the Research girls by name the same way."

The inner gate swings open at their approach, with a gentle creak of wood and metal. Beyond it is a complex of several outbuildings with the Tower at its center; Pirin turns right along a narrow lane just past the gatehouse.

Thorn follows, dismissing the glamour on her backpack as she goes. She'd rather surprise Pirin than one of the Treasury girls.

Pirin glances back and sees the change, but doesn't comment on it. She leads Thorn along another lane and opens the door of a small square building, inside of which is a cozy little office with an older woman sitting behind a desk surrounded by shelves of neatly filed paperwork.

"Hey, Shara."

    "Hey, Pirin. Who's this?"

"She calls herself Thorn. Says she's an ambassador of sorts, dropping in unannounced with gifts for the Tower. I figured you'd know where to point her."

    "Huh." Shara looks thoughtfully at Thorn and her backpack. "All right, I'll take it from here." Addressing Thorn, she says, "Welcome to Silversea Tower. I hope you weren't expecting something more formal."

"No, this is fine. Do you have somewhere I can take my pack off and show you its contents?"

Shara raises her eyebrows slightly. "Are they dangerous? If not, here will do."

Pirin nods to them both and leaves.

"There is one weapon, along with ammunition for it, but it's safe so long as it's handled with appropriate precautions. The rest is entirely mundane and in fact is mostly my camping gear; I think you'll find it interesting nonetheless."

She smiles, amused. "Let's see your camping gear, then, and leave the weapon for later."

"Well, first things first. The exception to the mostly."

She unzips her pack, pulls out two cylindrical black velvet bags, and lays them on the counter with the distinct chunk of metal on metal. Undoing the drawstrings, she tips out a gold coin that would fill the space in a ring made between her thumb and forefinger. It's inscribed with a hexagonal pattern and the three letters "OTC". 

"My travelling purse. Twenty coins identical to this one." she says.

"...hmm," says Shara, leaning forward for a better look at the coin. "I don't believe I've seen that mark before. Who makes it?"

"The trading company I'm affiliated with, the Oifilei Trade Consortium. They're from very, very far away." 

She pulls out her camping tent, which is a tightly folded bundle of nylon and plastic. "This is a collapsible tent. I'd set it up for you, but there isn't space. I don't believe these materials exist here." 

She holds out her hand across the desk. "Can I have a closer look?"

She passes the tent. "Certainly."

She studies it with close attention, running her fingers over the unfamiliar textures, poking gently at the finely stitched seams.

"I'd have to check with Archives to see if we have a record of anything like this, but I've never seen it before and until today I would've said I've seen most things that anyone is trading anywhere on this continent." She hands it back. "Just how far did you travel to get here?"

"Well," she says. "I'm not from this world at all. World-spanning magic is real, and lets the trading company I work for buy and sell things from across many worlds. You're a newly-found world; I've been sent to establish relations."

"What led you to Silversea Tower in particular, out of all the places you could have started?"

"Luck and authority. I was placed somewhat at random due to the limits of our transport magic, but you seem to have control of this region, judging by the spellbuilt tower, my being asked for my business with the Tower, and now your comments regarding having seen many trade goods but nothing like my tent. I was a thrown dart that was smart enough to find "someone in charge." Often that's all we can hope for; we don't have the capacity to rapidly scout whole continents, only the ability to place our agents into the world. I've had to travel for months before finding civilization before."

"I'm sure if you went a few miles down the coast to Kingsport they'd disagree with you about who has control of this region," she says, smiling slightly. "But if you're looking to trade in very strange things, I think you came to exactly the right place. Research and Archives are going to be all over you, if your story about being from another world bears out."

"That I can prove. With your permission, I can place a beacon that'll allow the Archivist to open an interdimensional door here." 

She runs a hand through her hair. "It's quite safe and well-tested magic, though if you'd like me to take it somewhere else I'm happy to."

"Perhaps not right in the middle of the Treasury office," she says. "I'd send you to Research for that sort of thing. Even if the door is only temporary I'm sure they'll want five people staring at you when you do it."

"If you'd like to send me off to Research then that's fine. I do have more things to show, but it sounds like you're convinced enough at this point."

"I'm convinced enough to let Research have a look at you, at least."

"That's fair enough. Would you care to guide me?" 

"I shouldn't abandon the desk for too long; I'll call someone."

She flips open a wooden flap on the wall, revealing a row of pull-chains, each with a different object hanging at the end. The one she pulls has a faceted sphere of glass or crystal; there's also a tongueless brass bell, a wooden carving of a book, a simple iron ring, and a few other things less instantly recognizable that vanish from sight again as she lets the flap fall.

"Shouldn't be a minute, Research girls are the most curious of them all."

"Interesting system you've got there. Magical, mechanical, or both?"

"Both. The chains run through linked rings to wherever they're needed. I'm told installing them is an enormous pain, but once they're in place, all the offices can call each other as necessary."

"Sounds convenient. For me my magic is carried in my tattoo; it's a complex system designed to let me cast spells in worlds that might not even have any mana."

"Research is going to be all over you," she predicts.

The office door opens, and a woman a decade or two older than Shara walks in, greying black hair bound up in an elaborate coiled braid. "What's the emergency?" she asks cheerfully.

"This is Thorn," says Shara. "She claims to be from another world and wants to open a door there to prove it."

"Oh, that is an emergency," says the newcomer, lighting up with obvious excitement. "Come with me, Thorn, I need to introduce you to all my friends immediately."

Thorn laughs. "I like you already. Lead the way!"

"I'm Senafia," she mentions as she leads Thorn out of the Treasury office. "Delighted to meet you."

"So, Research handles all the strange cases, I take it? You might want to take a look at my arm, the tattoo is a spell matrix."

"How different should I be expecting the magic of another world to be? Will it work on different principles? Use different resources?"

"Likely. Some form of "mana" is common to many worlds, but some have magic systems that work on completely different principles. Magic is broadly recognizable as magic, but that's all I can say."

"You still expect your magic to work here; should I expect the same if I visit your world? Can you cast new spells and improvise new tricks here, or only use tools you've already created?" They turn down another lane and head toward the Tower proper, entering it by a small side door and starting up a narrow spiral stair.

"The magic that I know I can use here is in my tattoo, which makes it part of me and not this world. I could try some other magic, but that is not always a wise idea. Some worlds have nasty reactions to unapproved spellcasting, which might even mean any spellcasting at all. OTC maintains neutral casting environments where most mages can practice. My native world, from before I became an employee of OTC, would probably let you cast."

One turn of the tightly winding stair takes them past an arrow slit with a view of the citadel from right above the door. At the next window, they're high above the ground, looking out over the rolling hills. At the next, they're a little lower down and looking out over the water. Senafia keeps climbing.

"I'd love to travel all the worlds and learn their magic," she says. "How hard is it to move between them?"

"Once a link is established, usually not very difficult. It's doing the initial establishing that's my job." 

The next few turns of the stair have no window at all.

"What governs how hard it is to move between worlds? You mentioned different worlds having different opinions about foreign magic—I assume that's metaphorical opinions—I shouldn't assume that, there may very well be worlds that have the regular kind—but is there something that has opinions about the whole business? Are there things that hold true everywhere? —is that form natural to you or did you take it to fit in, do the people of different worlds all differ from each other as much as humans differ from birds or elephants?"

"I look like a human because of complex reasons, most important of which are "this form expresses me well" and "this form is meant to blend well into any random universe." So it's both natural to me and a blending measure. Intelligent nonhuman species exist: humans are multiversally common, and humanoids more common than that. Most places are recognizable as worlds, or at least, most contactable places are. It's easier to search for similarity to existing things. There are at least three worlds I can think of that have opinions of the regular kind on unauthorized spellcasting, and at least a dozen that are metaphorical opinions. Mechanical motion is reasonably reliable. Some form of gravity - the thing that makes things fall - usually exists. This is because we search for planes where the physical laws are similar enough to our native plane for the world to sustain non-utterly alien life. So far as we can tell, most universes are uninhabitable on the level of "you would explode if you tried to enter it." So we take care to index the ones which have anything of value in them."

"Why are humans common? Is it just that you keep looking for places that are like the places you know, or is there something else going on, or are you not sure? —and here we are," she says, opening a door.

The room on the other side is spacious, with a vaulted stone ceiling high overhead and a well-swept stone floor holding neat, sparse rows of desks and tables, each with its own heap of scrolls or row of beakers. All four walls are lined with bookshelves except where the shelves are interrupted by a door.

"Welcome to Research." She makes a brief gesture as though plucking the string of an invisible harp, and addresses the empty room, "This is Thorn, everyone, she says she's from another world and she wants to open a door there to prove it. She was talking to Treasury but Treasury sent her here because they love us and want us to be happy."

A flurry of doors pop open all around the room. Excited women pour through them.

"Who's got a workspace they can spare?"

"Oh, use mine," says the youngest one in the room, bouncing on her toes. "I haven't started anything yet today, I've been catching up on my reading."

"Sure," Senafia says agreeably.

"I'm Esryne," the girl adds, beckoning Thorn over to her door. "It's lovely to meet you!"

"We're not certain why humans are so multiversally common," she says. "But that doesn't mean we can't act on it." 

She smiles at Esryne. "It's lovely to meet you too! I see there's a lot of you here in Research."

"That's because Research is the best, obviously!"

She laughs, and heads inside.