Gyselle looks a bit bashful at Thia completing her on her part in discovering this cure. As thoughts of what to do next surface her bubbly personality seems to melt away and she looks on the edge of tears. Growing up with Leach is all she’s known her whole life. Sure these new people she’s met were nice and all… but could she leave Leach… she almost couldn’t bear the thought of it. 

A month has passed since the surrender of the Marshal's corps. Thia, together with Corti, Gyselle and Leech, made sure to provide the Veiled Valour with the necessary resources and raw materials to treat the sick and dying that had accumulated in the run down church that serves as the order and the movement's quarters. Commander Corsyr swiftly buys the patent for the medicines off you and offers to invest a full 5'000 gold pieces into the proper funding, staffing and training of the order, even going so far as to set up a second location within the city to expand the health infrastructure. What else have you been doing with your time since then?

Thia:

 Corti:

 Gyselle:

---------------------------------

Brandt, you feel both relieved and uneasy to be back in the city. It still feels cramped, too loud, and not nearly as controlled as you like. But on the other hand, knowing that you're closer to Colette again does feel good in its own way. Do you go and meet her after your return?

Brandt:

--------------------------------
Tarian, the travels to the East and the whole story with the Marshal has shown you that the war has left marks on almost everyone, and despite only having ended very recently, a lot of truths are still buried on the battlefields. You made some powerful friends and allies in the administration of Duskrock, but you still haven't gotten much closer to reveal anything more about your own mystery. It might be time to hit up some old contacts for new clues... Who do you go and talk to first?

Tarian:

--------------------------------
Arc, the month passes with frequent visits by the Commander and the gnomish engineer, Derbert Sparks. Although the geological survey was primarily meant as a cover for your presence near the Marshal's troops, the work you all did in providing maps and surveys of the area, as well as your own hand drawn maps, figures and diagrams are greatly appreciated and will likely benefit the railway company and the workers who get to work more safely quite a bit in the coming months. What do you do when you're not tied down by the politics of this visionary project?

Arc:

Brandt immediately heads to see Colette, looking for some more pleasant company after being stuck with Arcineaux and her men.

Following the adventures of the party outside of the city, Arc would have passed them his address and offered that they seek him out should they need him. While not as resigned as he was when they started their venture, Arcius still felt the lingering hopelessness of his father's efforts to stifle him as soon as they returned. Desperate to not let his spark of passion die out, he threw himself into his work.

When Arc wasn't meeting with either the Commander or Mister Sparks, Arc would quarantine himself within his workshop and work. He had taken both men to see his prototype "Arc Coil" and presented his idea for the new energy source, and now he needed to perfect the design. Prior to throwing himself back into his work, he had made it clear that he wanted to design and produce the Coils without his family's influence, he did not wish to become another used tool for his father's glory.

That month, Arcius worked almost tirelessly. From the first prototype, to his 7th, drawing up and constructing, before further changing the design until he got it down to a format he felt was acceptable. Once that could even be scaled. Eager to test and show off the product in a way that would impress both the Commander and his fellow inventor Sparks, Arcius took to building 3 models.
The first, a 'Spark'. A winged snake of the small variety, brass scales and wings that chittered as it flew, the blue glow from its Arc Coil powering it.
The second would be a weapon. Taking own Eldritch Cannon, he converted the power source to the coil, in order to demonstrate it's potential to power weapons.
Finally, he went back to the Power Mover, and built upon it. The MK.1 Coil was swapped out for the new MK.7 Coil, and he reworked the build, changing wood for steel. With more time and better tools, he even was able to develop the suit to be some what more mobile...somewhat.

Still, his month of work showed off. With all his desire for secrecy from his Father, Arc ended up doing all of the manual work himself, building up his usually scrawny build just a little, and developing his hands dexterity to new levels.

(Spoiler is simply a more detailed breakdown of how he went about upgrading the Coils)

Corti spent her month bouncing between helping Thia and the Veiled Valor, checking in on the artificer and the rest of their party outside of that work, and, to her delight, returning to her nightly concerts in the Forge. She had missed the energy of it all: The passion of the students, the camaraderie of the workers, even the slow nights when only one or two patrons even glanced her way. 

Within the first week of the group's return, she had sought out Krathgar for updates on the workers' new conditions and to see if there was anything she could help out with and would have spent time with the workers she had met during the strikes regardless of whether or not she had work to do.

Brandt, when you get to the Velvet Glove, you're surprised to find that Colette has managed to convince the other girls to throw a small welcome back party to the "Dashing Dragoon", including a small banner and a banquet of simple, but hearty food. Once the humdrum settles a bit, she sidles up to you: "Miss me on those cold nights out there? People in the city heard all about the surrender of the Garronians, you simply must tell me all about it. In private." She adds a coy smile to the last statement, as she winks and casts a glance to her private chambers on the second floor of the establishment.

---------------------------
Corti, quite a few of the workers throw you a small party too. The beginning of the construction of the railroad has meant that the steel mills are running around the clock and many of the previously underemployed are now working as day-labourers out near the rail-head. For many, the project means the safest employment they've had for months. Krathgar isn't too happy about the developments though: "Gave us work, but not much more. Mark and Mei are still talking with the politicians, always talking. Us, we take the work because we need to eat. The strike ended, but no change came. Twitch is out at the railhead now, with a team of workers. I think they split us on purpose." He takes a sip from a large tankard, the bitter ale seemingly brightening his mood somewhat. "I was meant to tell you, Mei wants to see you, now that you're back."

Brandt is pleasantly surprised to see that Colette got the girls to give him a warm welcome when he gets back to the Velvet Glove. Certainly the most heroic reception I've ever gotten. Although the party is small and simple, it's still the best thing that Brandt has experienced in over a month. "Thanks girls, you really know how to make a guy feel welcome."

His mood improves even more when Colette moves up to him. "I missed you so much while I was gone. The others were nice, but I feel like I'm more of their babysitter than anything else and the Garronians aren't as pleasant to be around as you are." He wraps his arm around Colette's waist. "Or as pleasant to look at. Now let's go upstairs and have that little chat." Brandt says, picking up on her insinuations.

First order of business: let’s see if my room is still vacant.

Tarian returned to Elise’s tenement building to see Dannar on a ladder outside a second story window. When Tarian called out to him Dannar waved and finished hammering in the shutters. His lips now not holding nails, the half-orc was free to talk. “Welcome back, Tarian! Congratulations on not being dead! Your room’s still free if you need it. We had someone interested in it the day your hold would’ve expired, but he kept insisting we convert to his faith. Elise had me kindly escort him out and extended the hold by a month just for spite,” Dannar explained as he worked his way down the ladder.

Tarian chuckled. “Your kindness knows no bounds, Dannar. And I’ll take you up on that room offer.”

Her room again secured, Tarian considered what information she could get regarding her personal issue. Well, Davin Pendrell has probably left Duskrock by now. I should still check in, just in case he hasn’t. If Arceneaux’s in town he might want to know. After that, I don’t really have any good leads.

Maybe Thorbek does, though. I haven’t had any tea from the Hermit’s Bushel in a while, anyway. And, hm, maybe a Khalashtari might know more about the Shard, or Kazzhan. There might be good money in getting information to the magistrate. Paydays don’t last forever, after all.

Tarian, as you make your way to the Old Shields Tavern in Uptown, you are surprised to find that the outside of the building was charred and blackened from the second story up. Upon entering the tavern and inquiring, the barkeep lets you know: "Yeh, fire broke out in the apartment, ten days ago. Took poor old Pendrell. The investigators say he might have had one of his fits an' knocked a candle over, setting the whole thing ablaze. Couldn't even save any of his manuscripts to send off to his next of kin..."

Processing the death of an investigator just a few days after she spoke to him, Tarian makes her way to the Souk and to the Hermit's Bushel. The repairs have been completed, and the shop stands before you with much of its eastern aesthetic. As per usual, the place is empty except for the shelves stacked with fine herbs and the portly and bejewelled owner. 
"Tarian! Hoe good ta see ya! The usual?" As he starts with the tea, he casts a glance through his bushy eyebrows: "I know ya come here fer more 'n just the tea. Hoe canae help ya?"

Once Brandt arrives at Colette's private quarters, she turns around to face him with a coy smile, slinging her arms around his neck and planting a kiss on his lips. After a moment, she pulls back: "Oh, I almost forgot. A girl came by the other day and dropped this letter here off for you."

Arc, the weeks away from your Father have done wonders for your own development, and with the money from your "surveying" job and parts of your family research grant, you went ahead and rented a modest workshop with attached apartment in Uptown, for the reasonable price of 30 denars a month. To your surprise, the open defiance of your father's house arrest hasn't been addressed by him to date. Then again, since he hasn't talked to you at all, that could be him trying to show you the cold shoulder or instead be tied to his plans for the Northern expedition. At least, the research grant is still being paid and not having to deal with your father for a while is an additional plus. You do occasionally worry about how your uncle is doing however- last you saw him, he seemed to be in some form of mania brought on by your father's newest project. It could help him get back to his old self, but if your father is anything to go by, he's just as likely to break Tiberius further.

Being able to finally work in peace,  your creativity and experiments have grown to new heights, as shown by your new working prototypes. As you stand in your workshop though, your eyes fall on an earlier prototype of the mechanical hand you gave to Thia. You still owed Sylvia your aid, and last Thia and you spoke about it, she seemed excited by the prospect of working with you on functioning prostheses. You wonder briefly, whether the Krulls were still residing in the city after all this time.

Brandt reads the letter that Colette gives him. "Just got back in town and I'm already getting job offers. I'll meet up with this M person later, I've got some time before the evening and we've still got some catching up to do."

Not fully confident in being able to deal with the Kulls in a polite manner, especially after so much time away, Arcius sighs and would attempt to contact Thia.

Rummaging though his notes, he'd find the address he'd been left after parting ways with the party. Jotting down a small letter for his fellow artificer, Arcius would keep it simple.

Dear Thia,
                   I hope that this letter finds you in good health and spirits. It has been a busy few weeks, and I have taken it upon myself to move towards some independence from my family. With that said, I do apologize if I have missed any attempts to contact me as I have changed my address. With that said, if you are finding yourself free, I would request that you come to visit me. I have need of your skills, and could honestly use another living being to break out of the rut I've found myself in regarding the prosthetic hand we had previously been discussing.

I eagerly await your arrival or reply.

Your Friend, Arcius Soranik Raddeus Cannith the 2nd

Sending out the letter, Arc would get to work drawing up a few mechanical based redesigns of the hand.

“Yeah, the usual.” Tarian waited at the counter, visually sifting through the assorted teas she had yet to drink, despite not having interest in switching blends. The tea came, sat, and cooled a bit before Thorbek gently nudged it close enough to bump Tarian’s hand. She started, then took up the tea. “Right, tea,” she said with her first sip.

“So, I lost a contact of mine.” Another sip. “Probably murder. Maybe related to a case I’m working, so if you don’t see me again, well, this is Duskrock, so I’m sure you can figure it out.” She finished the tea all in one go. She could barely taste it today anyway.

She offered Thorbek a tight smile. “But that’s neither here nor there. I’m here about something else.”

Tarian took out payment for the tea and information. “There’s an organization called ‘The Shard’ that came up during a recent job. I don’t know much about them, other than they’re Khalashtari, so I figured you’d know better than I: what they’re all about, who’s in it, how to contact them, whatever you can give me. I have the names ‘Ishmael’ and ‘Kazzhan,’ if that’s any help.”

Corti is happy to see so many of the workers safe and in better conditions, but breaks off from the festivities to sit and listen to Krathgar. She frowns down at the table when Krathgar describes the split of the strike leaders, "I hate to say it, but that's a good theory." She fixes a determined look on her face and leans forward, "Well, I want to help however I can! Where can I find Mei?" 

Having managed to secure the Veiled Valour with the necessary resources and healthcare infrastructure expansion, Thia found herself back in her dorm. Completely and utterly exhausted, she immediately tosses her bag atop her desk spewing some contents all over it before flopping onto her bed. Letting out a deep exhale to decompress, she couldn't help but wonder what the next steps were. Was it really all that 'easy'? Was that really 'it' for her involvement? Was that all the work she wanted to do? Was she satisfied? Snort.

The gold glint of the Veiled Valour symbol on the wrist of her jacket would catch her eye. There was always more work to be done. With a groan, Thia would lift herself from laying. She'd rub her face and run her hands through her hair to push it out of her face, her jacket hood finally falling away. Rubbing her tired eyes, the alchemist would pick herself up and move over to her desk. She'd pull a few things forward, books, documents, papers, pens, vials, Arc's prototype, flask, notebook, etc. The redhead arranged items one by one, holding onto a couple of latter items longer than others.

Picking up her pen, Thia would hold it to paper...

Throughout the month, Thia found herself isolating, testing boundaries and seeking thrills.

When motivated during the day, she'd busy herself with acquiring knowledge, studying and researching. When approaching something new, there was a methodical path to take. Start with the basics. Practice to advance. Explore theories. Test. Push the boundaries. Expand knowledge. The medic would brush up on basic cellular structure, regeneration and lifecycle. Review existing studies and her knowledge and experience on saving limbs, much like she did for the client Brandt brought in, and how she could improve her skills. Thia would then move on to the study of transplants, organic first and then inorganic. With her instincts always favouring what she knows, organics, she'd focus on the study of identifying dead cells, removing them, avoiding infection, reducing chance of rejection, optimizing healing of cells, and what she believed to be most important, preserving the nerves.

There were definitely days Thia didn't forget about Hadrari and the Shard. She'd submit to focusing on collecting resources first before consolidating them together in a meaningful way and running down that rabbit hole alone. With all this in mind though, Thia would start paying more attention to news, noting, clipping and highlighting anything that could be of interest.

When not asleep upon heaps of books and papers, Thia would have her various tools and kits out, meticulously carrying out what became almost daily rituals. Dedicated blocks of time were spent studying, drying, hanging and preparing herbs with her herbalism kit that would decorate the ceilings of her room. Once those tasks were tended, she'd move on to her alchemist kit and begin experimenting with elixirs. With organized note taking, she'd memorize their effects, potencies and uses, hoping test a few while stock piling a few for reserve. This brought her to her routine check on her medicine kit, ensuring it was stocked up and top notch. If her elixirs or solutions were good enough, they'd make the cut and join her supplies.

Restless at night, unable to sleep, or focus, Thia would hit the roof tops and streets with long strides, looking for the next rush. A thirst of adrenaline. She wanted to feel her heart in her chest and hear it pound in her ears. She'd stock up on flasks, supplies, collect herbs, test and perfect new concoctions and how well she could hide in the shadows. She'd pick up a deck of cards and even start frequenting a few establishments to get her taste of the scenes, looking, hoping, for something to quell her restless mind's search.

Thia would always find her way back to her dorm, eventually, with enough time to crash before starting her cycle once again.

Until something broke it.

Crinkle. "Eh?" A sleepy Thia rubs her eyes and looks down. She stepped on paper. What's new? Extending a leg out, it wouldn't let go, so she'd shake her foot. Sighing, she'd return her foot back down and just take it with her as she'd finish walking through her dorm to the window. Lifting her foot up behind her, she'd reach, blindly grabbing for the paper with one hand while the other goes to open the curtain. Light beams through. "Bah!" The shock to her eyes caused them to water and her to stumble. The redhead managed to grab hold of the paper before her foot found the floor in time to catch herself. "A letter?" It must have come while she was resting her eyes... Blinking to adjust said eyes, she smooths out the paper to read. It was from Arc.

Thia would glance to the research on her desk she's been reviewing. After chewing on her lip for a few moments, she'd toss the letter on top with a sigh. She had to admit it, he had her interest with the potential of advancing discussion on theories or breakthroughs on merging their respective sciences and technologies. Suppose it was time for her to change routine, get presentable and be a bit social. Taking her time, the alchemist would freshen up, collect and prepare herself and her research, prior to setting out to Arc's new address.

Thorbek looks at you, taken aback by the question: "I donnae anythin' 'bout the Shard, sorry Tarian. 's far as Ishmael goes, the name's a denar a dozen back in the Trade Republic. Kazzhan though, that's a diff'rent story. He's the hierophant o' Em'rald City." He clears his throat, before continuing, hesitantly. "What d'ye knoe of the faiths o' the nations of Corphyra?" With that, he raises a finger to tell you to wait, and quickly dips back into the storeroom and, you assume, his office, before coming back with a small book. "In Breland, the faeth's mostly gone, but back home, religion is part o' the fabric of our lives. Not many outsiders know of the Manyborn, only a few of the Khalashtari actually are. But few of us doubt the afterlife as a result. Try'na rule a kingdom spread o'er hunnerds o' islands is difficult at the best o' times, an' the Republics dinnae have a lot o' those 'fore the Empire. Wasn't even the Republic back then. One o' the sultans managed ta forge an alliance an' crushed the rest, bringin' the islands under commen rule. She saw however, tha' the society could splinter again, if the alliance shifted. By royal decree, they created an ecclesiastic class an' a creed center'd on the connection the manyborn had to their ancestors. The creed was center'd on the three values of authority, stability an' justice.  Knowin' tha the ancestors were watchin' our actions, even the rulers were bound by the new creed. Most o' the manyborn were raised ta ecclesiastic office, an' chose the eldest amongst them ta serve as the hierophant to the sultan, guarding o'er the celestial pact, 'tween the ruler, the ancestors an' the people. Not sure, if tha' helps you in any way, but if the hierophant is involved, it could have effects for all o' the Trade Republics."

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Corti, Krathgar gives a non-committal shrug: "Not sure, lately she had a lot of business in the docklands though, mebby ye can find her there." With that, he turns back to his ale.

Before you get to turn and leave however, you feel someone tugging at your skirts and turning around, you find the excitable halfling promoter before you: "Corti! Heard you were back, great news that! Can I take this to mean you're ready to take on Reichenplatz?"

After spending a rather enjoyable afternoon with Colette, Brandt heads out to the address that M gave him. "It was wonderful to catch up with you Colette, but the job is once again calling. Until next time." As he makes his way down to Jefferson's Imports at the Docklands, his pleasant mood is replaced by one of professional caution. I'm not opposed to putting a bullet in Borrick's brain and tossing him in the sea, but I wish I knew who this M was. The fact that they want Borrick to pay for his crimes means that they're not a gangster and the fact that they can use words with more than two syllables indicates that they're smarter than the average person. And the fact that this person knows that I'm staying at the Glove with Colette means that they must be friends with one of the kids. Cannith didn't seem like he had too many friends, maybe they might know Thia or Tarian? 

Corti's mind had turned to Mei nearly as soon as she finished speaking with Krathgar, so she was unprepared to face the excited halfling. "Take on...?"  Corti lightly smacks her forehead, remembering, "Oh! Mr. MacFergus, isn't it?" Corti had been so preoccupied by their recent mission that her challenge had been far from the front of her mind, "I'm quite ready! In fact," She regained her composure and began to grow excited, "I'm looking forward to it."

Thia's worries for looking neat would quickly be found unneeded, as when she arrived at Arc's workshop, he would answer the door looking far less like the pristine nobleman he had first presented himself as. Hair slick with burnt ends, dirt and ash caking his face save for the area of which appears to be goggles, and a smith's apron. Save for the Dragonmark that shimmered happily over his right eye, the crimson haired artificer didn't hold any traits of nobility about him, less so when he beamed in delight at the sight of Thia's presence.

"Thia! You've made it. Great! Please come in." Opening the door wide for his fellow scientist, Arcius made his way back into his workshop and went about opening some windows and turning on the ceiling vent. "Oh, please close the door on your way in!" The interior of Arc's workshop was filled with various tools, materials, designs and basic models. Despite the large quantity of papers and works however, they all seemed relatively organized, albeit dirtied. Thia would then notice a metallic flying snake coil it's way up a table to stare at her for a moment. It's metal wings chittering in curiosity at her as Arc made his way back towards her after opening the last window, "Sorry for the mess and Spark there, neither of us are quite used to having company over. I'm surprised you answered the letter so quickly." Compared to before, despite seeming much dirtier now, Arc was in a much better mood and temo than when they started their adventure last time.

"I had just finished some working models for a current project, when I recalled that I would ask for your help when designing this." With a quick grab of some sheets, he lays out a few different mechanical designs for some hand prosthetics. "Now I've mostly been thinking that we'd wish for the hand to be as close to the original hand as possible, to account for how they'd utilize it, as well as psychological acclamation to it. A part of me was also thinking of using a magical alteration instead." He motions to a design that involves using runes to form an anchored Mage Hand to a socket that would connect to the arm. "It would be a tad more unconventional, but the idea came to me after I sent the letter and I just had to get it down on paper~"

Clearly happy to show off his ideas and have someone to talk to, Arc beams towards Thia again and realizes he had been going non stop, and takes a step away from her to clear his throat. In almost a flash, as if recalling his old habits, Arc's usual mask goes back up and he snaps his fingers to quickly cast Prestidigitation and clean himself up. "...my apologies. It's been a while since I've had the honor of seeing a friend, much less show off my work to a peer. How have you been Thia, all has been well I hope?" A light blush of embarrassment it hidden around his ears as he hopes that his fellow redhead wouldn't bring up his rush of excitement from when he let her in.