Thia would pause and furrow her brows a little, That's it? ... 'Learned type'... Unable to ponder too much about it, she scurried to catch back up in pace with Wilfred and Alexis down the path through the camp.

Seeing the boy and hearing the mother's plead for help, Thia would want to brush right passed to begin examining the boy. She'd stop herself after the first step to instead look to Wilfred and Alexis first. I don't lead the charge here. She'd remind herself. It wouldn't stop her from trying to examine what she could of the boy from where they stood and scan the immediate area for any handy items (such as items or tools that could be used for sterilization or treatment) if needed.

Corti smiles at Twitch, grateful for his understanding and apology, "I'm so happy to hear that, Twitch, thank you." Corti pauses when he mentions a family, considering her options for what she could say. She doesn't usually speak about her mentor, whom she considers family, but she genuinely likes and trusts Twitch, and wants to answer his question truthfully. "I had a very close friend once, she was a lot like family to me, but it's been a long time since we've seen each other. Other than that, I try to make friends along the way, but I wouldn't say that any of them are my family. I would certainly like to have one, someday. What about you? I know you mentioned that you didn't have anyone to spend the day with, but if I may ask, what's your story?

The girl eagerly accepts the coin, and immediately pockets it, before gingerly handing Milo the newspaper. At hearing him tell tale of having encountered the gangs, she screws her nose: "Wha'? ! You went up 'gainst the gangs? No way! I mean, no offense Mister, but ye ain't the fightin' type. An' wha' were you doin' to run into the gangs anyway? I donnae buy yer story."

Skimming the headlines, Milo sees that there's a development in the civil war up north, with the regional capital of Borogrod falling to imperial forces and the subsequent massacre of hundreds of workers. Secondly, there was a piece on the upcoming ball at the Alvendale's residence in the Northward.  A third item read: "Manhunt over- Escaped Patient Found Dead". Furthermore, the cover teased an editorial on Spark's railroad, and the praised interview with the Lightning, a skyskipper.

One of the strikers approaches Arc, and wearily asks: "Who wants to know? You ain't welcm 'ere, fancyman. Corti 's a friend, so before I tells ya where she is, you gotta tell me what ye want wit' her."

Alexis, seeing Thia's instincts, looked at her and said, encouraginly: "Go ahead, I wanna see you with this one." Wilfred similarly stepped back and asked the mother to leave the tent, giving Thia full access to the patient. She couldn't help but feel like this was some sort of test.

Before Twitch has a chance to answer, Krathgar approaches Corti. "Corti, someone's out front askin' questions about you, wearin' all fancy clothes and the like. What you wan'us to do wit'im?"

Milo chuckles.  “Is it that obvious?  I was actually on a mission to save a Lady in distress.  They happened to be the perpetrators.  I’ll have you know I have gone toe to toe with quite a few baddies and come out on top.  You want to know my secret weapon?”  He leans in acting to tell her a whispered secret “Knowledge”.  Standing back upright “every war is won with a pen, never a sword.  Information... secrets...truth.  these are our weapons against those who seem too daunting to face head on. Those that are larger, stronger, profiteers of a corrupt system.  Knowledge is what balances the scale to give us an even chance.  Just think about the knowledge you hand out Day to day and how it effects everyone who is willing to listen.  Imagine how much knowledge you could have, if you chose to listen to the right people.  My dear, if you want to get yourself off these streets.  Begin by listening for these secrets, consuming and distilling knowledge and not just dispersing the words of others.  There are people out there and people right her, willing to pay top dollar for secrets... not just these lousy copper pieces.  Do you understand what I am asking you to do for me?” Milo takes out another two gold pieces to show the girl.

With her hands at her sides, Thia would wiggle her fingers then flex them, a sort of nervous tick. Of course it's a test. She'd close her eyes, take a deep breath to calm any nerves and pull down her hood. Thia would push her sleeves up as she'd approach and kneel next to the boy to examine him closer. She'd feel his forehead for fever and check his pulse. She'd inspect for any visible swollen lymph nodes or physical injuries. Thia would gather her hair and hold it to the side as she leaned in to listen closer to the boys ramblings, mostly focusing on his breathing but would also want to know what he could be saying, in case it isn't rambling after all.

Tarian made her way to the Zephyr Post in the Eastern Fields. It was her first time going there, and it showed. She blanched when she heard the price of mailing a letter from Duskrock to her hometown, and quickly replied she’d mail it later. The postal worker seemed completely unfazed about the response, as though this was a regular response at the Post.

Maybe later I’ll just pass the letter on to Saelvek and Sylvia, then, and they can hand-deliver it themselves. Given the choice between mailing a single letter home, replacing my crossbow, or having nearly a month’s worth of living expenses, I think I’ll choose to eat and sleep. While I’m on the subject…

Tarian headed back to her apartment. Elise was there, sweeping some bits of sawdust and wood shavings from behind her counter on the ground floor. “Another late night, eh?”

Tarian shook her head, pulled a gold coin from her coin purse and set it on the counter. “You don’t know the half of it. This is today’s rent, and tomorrow’s if I don’t wake up before then. If anyone’s looking for me, you can tell them I’m dead. If it’s about a job, tell them I’m dead, but get their information and tell them they can expect my glorious resurrection soon.”

Elise slid the coin off the counter and into her apron pocket. “I would, but I ain’t your secretary.”

Tarian looked over to Dannar sitting in a chair by the stairs, who responded by flapping his newspaper and hiding behind it again. “Don’t look at me. She’s my boss.”

Tarian sighed and walked to the stairs, but a headline on Dannar’s paper caught her eye. Manhunt Over – Escaped Patient Found Dead.

Tarian stopped as though she had swallowed a great stone that now sat heavy in the pit of her stomach. Possibilities: the article is a lie, or a cover-up. Grumm faked Marcellus’s death. Marcellus is dead, but for unrelated reasons. Marcellus is dead for related reasons. The mix of good and bad possibilities bothered her, but not much could be done while Tarian’s head was swimming with lack of sleep.

“Hey, Dannar? You mind holding onto that newspaper for me to read later after I get some shuteye? A job I’ve recently taken might be related to something in there, and I’m just curious as to what it says.”

“Eh, alright.” Dannar flipped another page.

“Thanks.”

Tarian found her way up to the fourth floor, and did a quick, casual search of her apartment. No cat, and no mess under her desk or her bed. She shuttered the windows and locked the door, got herself ready for bed. Before crawling under the covers she set her armor stand in front of the door, where it would make a lot of noise if the door was opened, and set her sword next to her on the floor.

It was not going to be a pleasant rest.

Brandt pulls out a notepad and begins brainstorming for the pistol that Colette is going to receive. "It can't be a hand cannon, but obviously it has to be something that packs enough punch where one shot will get the job done. I don't think that we're going to worry about concealing the pistol, your outfit doesn't offer much in the way of that,as much as I like it. And it should probably be something that carries a good amount of bullets, so that you don't have to reload after every shot or two."

Corti spins as Krathgar approaches, "Oh! Thank you, Krathgar, I'll go greet them. We're certainly not looking to aggravate anyone." Corti, not recognizing Krathgar's apprehension, will follow him if he brings her out to the front.

Emma's eyes went wide at the sight of the gold pieces, but she quickly turned to face Milo, with a look of mild confusion. "You'd pay fer rumers and dockyard tales? I haf plen'y of 'em, too, but they'd hardly be worth the two copper tha' yer all payin' fer tha paper 'ere. So wha' exactly is it ye wan' me ta lis'en to?"

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

The boy's forehead was hot to the touch, and glistening with sticky cold sweat. The boy's breathing was shallow, and throughout the examination, he was shivering and convulsing. Looking the boy over, all she could find where a few scrapes on his knees from playing outside and a small bitemark from a rodent or cat on his left hand. None of the wounds seemed infected or festering though. Bending over the boy, Thia could understand the individual words the boy said, but they were all jumbled up and their meaning evaded her:

"It hurts... voices in Mother, the head... please my water.

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

Colette took a look at Brandt's sketches and was amazed at his skill with charcoal and parchment, wielding them with the same ease as he did his rapier. After a while of drawing, Colette wrinkled her nose. "I'm sorry, but this gun seems very large. I might not need to hide it, but I still need to carry it on me, and I'd rather have a smaller pistol if it means I have an easier time wielding it and have less weight to carry around. And I think three or four shots before reloading sounds good. It's not like I'll be dealing with much that will stay standing if I hit with those, right?"

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

Walking out to the front of the factory yard, Corti sees a lean and tall aristocratic young man at the other side of the gate, wearing a set of fine clothes embroidered with the Cannith sigil that she had seen hanging around the factory. The man was alone, here to talk. Still, what did House Cannith want with them now? Did they get wind of the negotiations between Sparks and the workers? As Corti approached the gate, Krathgar and the other workers drew in close, standing back but close enough to intervene, should the interloper try anything untoward.

Milo puts the gold back in his pocket.  “It’s no secret that you and the other children on the street are exposed to the underbelly of this town.  You can ask them what they have seen or know.  You all have the ability to go anywhere and be practically invisible.  Anything about what any of these nasty little gangs are doing or planning.  Maybe a little scandal that a business man doesn’t want to see the light of day. Perhaps someone of high esteem has been seen wandering that bad parts of town late at night.  Anything that could be used for leverage.  That’s our weapon, that’s how we rise to the top.”  

"So it sounds like you want a pepperbox. Not too big, but it packs a punch and will last for a bit before you need to reload."

Thia would furrow her brows as she couldn’t understand what he may mean. Sitting back up, she’d reach for her waterskin to offer the boy a drink while she scanned the room for ‘his water’. She’d also hope to spot maybe a bucket with water and a rag to wipe off his feverish sweat.

Calmly and professionally Thia would inquire out loud to the pair watching her, “Do we know how long he’s been feverish? Or if the mother, or any one else, has been treating him with anything?” She’d get up to survey the contents of the hut more closely. 

Corti freezes as she notices the symbol of House Cannith. Come on, Corti, you know they aren't all bad. Maybe he's taken an interest in the cause. Glancing at Krathgar and the others, and seeing the place they've taken, she nods thankfully and then cautiously begins to move towards the man. Trying to hide her fear, she greets him, "Hello, sir! What brings you out here today?"

Spotting the workers gather around, Arc can't help but be put on edge for a moment. However, that is mostly pushed aside as he hears and spots the Warforged greet him. He spends a moment looking them up and down, seeing how they're designed, what they're wearing, etc. Trying to get a general read on the unit.

"Unit. Please answer, do you have a name? Do you affiliate with any particular gender? And lastly, do you believe you have a soul?" He stares at her intently, not in criticism, but in honest curiosity and suspense at her answer.

Insight: 6

Corti laughs nervously, a little disbelieving at this man's questions. "Ah- My, you're quite forward, I'm sorry, I don't think I'll answer that. I did ask first after all. Why are you here? Other than my personal information, what do you want?"

Arc gives a slightly surprised look, but nods, "That is fair. Apologies if I came across as crass. Feel free to call me Arc, I, in fact, came here for you. More accurately, to understand why you're here." He looks around, "Is there anywhere we could talk? I find that it will quickly become tiring if we were to keep talking while standing in front of a crowd." He motions his head to the crowd of people behind Corti, and those passing by on the street.

Corti smiles, "It's good to meet you, Arc. My name is Corti." She looks around the yard and points to an area off to the side where there aren't any workers, "Come over here, it isn't the most private, but it'll get you out of the street at least." Before heading over, she turns to the workers, "Keep doing what you're doing, if anyone needs me just ask."

She walks over to Arc, "Well I can get one question out of the way to start with. I'm here for a lot of reasons, but most of all just to help these people."