Gunnar arrives back at the Hall with Caw still at his side. His belly growls a little, so he decides to grab a feed. As it is now after midday, not many people are in the Hall.

Seeing Bertude, Gunnar walks the length of the building towards her. “Hi Bert, could I grab a meal and chilled juice?”

Bertude smiles, her one bright green eye regarding her fellow dwarf. “Sure, that will be two slips. Do you want the stew or just a platter?”

“Stew.”

Gunnar passes over the two slips. Bertude grabs them and tucks them into her apron, then walks to the kitchenhands to deliver the order. Turning back, she grabs a glass and dips it into a metal bucket resting on ice. “Here you go.”

“My thanks. Seen the rest of the Rejects?” Gunnar inquires.

“Nope. What job are you doing? Don’t remember you going to the Job Board for a while.”

Gunnar takes a drink, and Caw whines a little. “Bert, could you be a dear and grab a bowl of water for Caw?”

Smiling at that, Bertude replies, “Sure.” She grabs a large metal bowl and heads over to the tap, filling the bowl. “Here you go,” she says, handing it to Gunnar.

“Thanks.” Bending down, he places it in front of Caw, who starts noisily lapping up the sweet liquid. Gunnar scratches the mastiff behind the ears, saying, “It was a private job for a lumber or furniture merchant. Not sure I was listening.”

“Be careful with those types of jobs. The Hall will not protect your interest if they don’t pay,” Bertude warns.

“It’s fine. If he doesn’t give us the money, we’ll head to the Count himself and give the information directly to him.”

“Wow, sounds important,” Bertude exclaims.

Gunnar takes another mouthful of the juice. “Not really. It’s something about forged silver spoons. Sounds stupid, but it’s a job.”

Hearing a bell from the kitchen, Bertude heads over to grab the bowl of stew and a roll. Placing it in front of Gunnar, she asks, “Why is it stupid? Are they selling the spoons?”

Gunnar feels a thump on his side. Caw’s giving him puppy dog eyes and looking at the stew. “No, you ate this morn. Bloody dog.” He notices Bertude laughing. “About the job,” he says. “Way thinks that they’ve swapped them out with a new cheap spoon or something like that.”

Bertude responds with a small smile but a stern tone. “You keep that Dwarf under control, Caw, or he is out! But you can stay, Caw.”

Gunnar sees the mirth on Bertude’s face and suddenly misses the camaraderie of other Dwarves. Only Bertude, Korri and Belgrim treat him like a fellow Dwarf. Even with the nasty encounter today with his ex-brothers, Gunnar misses his family.

“Yeah, thanks for that Bertude, but why would you want a smelly dog like this one?”

She limps around the bar and walks up to Caw. Reaching up, she drapes her arm around the massive mastiff. “He doesn’t smell, and he is better looking than you.”

“Bah.” Caw starts to lick Bertude. “At least I don’t smother you in doggie kisses every time I come in.”

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She winks at him, her one green eye alight. “Well, I wouldn’t mind.”

Taken aback by that, Gunnar hears the main door open. Caw looks over. His tongue rolls out of his mouth, then he breaks into a sprint toward the newcomers.

“Mela’s Grace, dog! You’ll be the death of me.” Hopping down off the stool, Gunnar starts off after Caw, still bewildered by Bertude’s comment. Then he realises who it is. “Boss, Way, good to see you.”

Stillwater nods. WayWocket is too busy playing with Caw. The size difference is so enormous that Caw looks like he is playing with a small toy, but this toy can make explosions.

“I’m not the boss anymore, Gunnar. Let’s sit down and exchange information.”

“Sure, Boss.” He follows Stillwater to a table in the middle of the room. Bertude brings Gunnar’s lunch over to the new table, then turns to Stillwater.

“Do you want anything, Champion Stillwater?”

Stillwater grimaces inwardly at the name, but it’s Bertude’s usual name for her. “Just what Gunnar is having, and a jug of water with four cups.”

“Will do.”

Bertude heads back behind the bar, and Stillwater turns to Gunnar. “So, what did you find out?”

Gunnar proceeds to outline his chats with Gunter and Winkle. “That’s about it. The only lead I have is the Wilted Flower Gang, but I don’t know where they hole up. Somewhere in the Residential area, maybe? How about you, Boss?”

Sighing, Stillwater goes over her interaction with Peregrine, his apprentice Lensa Miraceran, and Sadzi. Gunnar eats while listening, not impressed at the account of Lensa’s behaviour.

Stillwater pauses to thank Bertude when the stew and pitcher of water appear, then continues. “So that’s about it. Sadzi doesn’t know anything, and Peregrine wasn’t there.”

Gunnar calls out. “Way, stop playing with Caw! We need your brains.” Hopping off Caw’s back, WayWocket skips over to the table. Caw whines a little, so Gunnar places his leftover stew on the ground. “Oi, Caw. Come over here.”

WayWocket jumps up onto the chair, his head just poking over the rim of the table. “What do you need, Green and Pure?” He glances away. “Paths merge, pattern clear, only Dawn and Blooded will know next.”

Both allow WayWocket to finish, knowing that at some inappropriate time his little ramble will become more evident. Stillwater notes that this is the first time she’s heard the name ‘Blooded’. “So, Way. Do we have enough information to take to Klaus Handwerk?”

“Wait, wait. Not much time, quickly and swiftly. Darkness comes and then we all will walk the path of truth.”

Gunnar taps on the table to grab Stillwater’s attention. “He’s gone, Boss. Too much for him today. Let’s wait until Halfy comes.”

Nodding her consent, Stillwater keeps eating. Just before she finishes her stew, Kilroy enters the Hall. Looking around, he sees the other Rejects. “Good, you are here.”

Gunnar nods. “Master Kilroy, what are you doing here?”

Taking a seat with them, he pours a cup of water, sniffs at it, then sips at his drink. “I was with Solo and Pela when they went to visit Cyric. Solo and my instincts hinted at something fishy, and we waited around until Cyric’s assistant came out looking shifty. Then Lone asked me to come here, saying he’d be back later.”

“Bloody Halfy, asking you to be his errand boy…”

Gunnar trails off as he catches Stillwater’s glare. “Gunnar, enough. Sorry, Master Kilroy. How long will they be?”

“I am not sure. Last time I saw them, they were heading up Resolution Boulevard.”

“Well, that’s that. We’ll have to wait. So, Master, how has Lone’s training been going?”

Kilroy takes another drink. “He has natural agility but has been trained too well in the army way. Once I have broken his habits, he should become a decent fighter.”

“Champion of the Hall is coming up. Will you be entering this year, Master Kilroy?” Stillwater inquired.

Kilroy smiles at Stillwater. “You know I have retired from tournaments, but I was thinking of entering Solo this year.”

Gunnar coughs. “Are you serious? He’ll be eaten alive, that Pratfall.”

Stillwater leans over and backhands Gunnar, who falls on the floor. “What did I tell you? Even if he isn’t here, you watch your language.”

Gunnar hops up from the floor, spitting blood. “Sorry, Boss, it was a slip.” Then, bowing to Kilroy, “I am also sorry, Master Kilroy.”

Kilroy coldly nods, and even WayWocket doesn’t look happy. Suddenly, Way looks at the door and smiles. Wisps of possibility start to pour through the closed door. Each one is Pela or Lone; in a few they are family, and in others, they are kissing. More and more possibilities flood into the Hall. In one, a group charge in after Lone and Pela and a grand melee starts. WayWocket then sees his own death. He shrugs and continues to watch.

“Dawn is here, with the Blooded,” WayWocket proclaims.

They all look strangely at WayWocket, and then Lone, and Pela come running in through the great oak doors.