Silver eyed Sledge cautiously as the group prepared for their various ventures.

"So what is it that you have volunteered me for?"

Sledge was rifling through his pack, tossing it's contents across the floor.

"Ya know dat lad down below, tired lookin' un? Well 'e been up since last sundown 'n 'is boss dinna show. So we gunna find 'im for da lad."

Ink appeared behind them both.

"Are you receiving payment for this service?"

Sledge threw a dirty glance.

"Naw, bu'it's da roight t'ing ta do, t'ain't it?"

Silver nodded approvingly and took in a deep breath of the room. As well as being able to smell invocations, Silver could also smell magical potential. Ink possessed a relatively minor talent, mostly able to perform from the domains of Conveyance, Radiance, and Stone. Their true art however, was in the science of alchemy. Sledge, near as Silver could tell, possessed no magic nor potential to use it. Knives had a strange smelling suite of capability but seemed confined to the domain of Gloom. Silver did not know from where his power emerged and knew better than to ask, Myst Hunters were a strange bunch. Gale nearly drowned the rest of the room out with a seemingly pure channel to the Matron and all her domains.

Silver closed his nostrils and looked across the room at Gale. She had settled in at the singular desk of the quaint accommodations, nestled between two sets of bunk beds and a bedroll situated near the door. Silver approached as she flipped through a stack of paper and parchment and took furious notes in a hard-backed book with a fanciful fountain pen.

"Need anything else, I do not think we will be long?"

Her eyes flicked up as she studied him briefly.

"Is Ink stocked on alchemical supplies? I imagine we can't afford any pre-mades."

"I do not believe so, Ink would make a fuss if their stash began running low on anything. I doubt we will find alchemy on the cheap here, I would guess most of the alchemists supply the Guild directly with little remaining in stock. But I will see what can be found."

"Good. Otherwise aim to refrain from further bodily harm."

Her eyes flicked towards his damaged scales.

"Of course, may I ask what occupies your attentions?"

Gale set down the fountain pen, closing it with a twist.

"I had copies made of manifests from each barge that went missing. I will find a connection even if the Guilders are unable."

"That is... impressive. How did they part with it, I was under the impression their shipping services are confidential?"

The slightest of grins broke through her purple beard.

"My status as a cultist of the Matron is easy to mistake for that of one of the ForeSeers. And Guilders are more than happy to acquiesce to any affiliates of the Justicars. I simply allowed them to believe what their eyes mistook as truth."

Silver was uncomfortable, both at the implication and mention of the Justicar Cult. While the Justicars and ForeSeers did prevent the worst impulses of society and were far more widespread than the Imperators, they had no legal authority as recognized by the Illuminant. The efforts of the two cults often crossed into the domain of the Imperators and there had been... altercation. The reputation of the Justicar cult as zealots blind in the pursuit of retributive 'justice' made Silver queasy. Mortal Law was firm and fair, not to be wielded to make an example. The ForeSeers though, Silver found their mission borderline heretical. Divining heresy, deviance, and the breaking of Mortal Law before it happened was too far.

His body betrayed his thoughts as Gale retorted.

"You take issue?"

"No, and yes. Posing as a Justicar is likely to land you... outside of their good graces."

"I did no such thing and besides, I practically was one. The ForeSeers tried to recruit me before I signed on with you lot."

Silver shifted uncomfortably, this next part might be unpleasant but he felt he needed to know.

"Meaning no offense, but why did you sign on with us? We are a small outfit, only two months old, no true successes under our belt. Face managed to get this job for us because he gave them the discount rate. Me, Face, and Sparks were all mercs with the Mint Hounds before our banner was discontinued. Our skills have a very narrow application outside a mercenary banner and former Hounds are rarely welcomed under other banners, they worry that a Hound's loyalty might remain in the past."

Silver glanced over at Ink, who seemed enthralled at the rate Sledge was disassembling his pack.

"Ink was practically a Hound, they were an alchemist on retainer with our banner. I think they would be lost without one of the three of us."

Silver paused before continuing.

"Knives was a find by Face. I think he had been recently forced out of the Myst Hunters Guild. Sparks and Sledge were in a bar brawl and Face asked him if he wanted a job after he pinned Sparks. From what I can gather, Sledge was trying to escape one of the bastard crews in the capital."

Silver recollected all he knew of Gale before continuing.

"Face said to find you here in Caldera when we arrived three days ago and to bring you into the fold. You are clearly well educated and very organized, probably from a family of wealth. You belong to a Cult of the Matron, I would assume the Temple of the Tempest. Though I have not seen it, I can sense your immanent potential; you were chosen for great things by the Ennead, maybe the Matron herself. You seem... predisposed towards leading. I would guess you were being groomed to lead your temple chapter."

Gale laced her fingers and rested her chin and purple beard on the resulting surface while staring pensively into Silver's eyes.

"I see the latent Imperator in you yet stirs."

Silver nodded in affirmation.

"My former service grants me... an expanded view of the present."

"And mine of the future. I arrived several days before you, investigating the missing shipments. My questions led only to dead ends so I performed a Gaze forward to try and divine my path. No matter how I tried to arrange the Gaze, all I could see was a banner spear bearing the image of a grey wolf. I asked around the area and found some mercs who were willing to engage with me. One of them had heard of a newly bannered company calling themselves the Greypelts. They were kind enough to arrange a Conveyance with Face. Face and I came to a verbal agreement which will be sealed by oathwright when we reach the capital. You arrived shortly thereafter and now here we are."

Silver's body betrayed him again as she raised a hand and continued.

"Trust that I am here because I share the same devotion for success in this job that you all have. Our goals are aligned and I am here because I choose to be."

The ensuing silence between them was interrupted by a triumphant cackle echoing from across the room. Sledge held a hammer aloft and slotted it into his belt with a look of pride as Silver turned back towards Gale.

"Thank you, for you candidness. Excuse us."

Silver headed over to Sledge and Ink.

"Are we expecting trouble?"

"Naw, but I'd feel bad if'n I needed it'n it weren't der."

Ink looked as though they wished to retort, but Silver cut first.

"Alright, you know where we are going then?"

The Pridefolk nodded in enthusiastic affirmation. Silver stared at his own pack, wondering if he too would regret not bringing a weapon, but decided against it. No reason to draw any extra attention with a sword or shield.

"Let us be off then, I want to wrap my arm before we hop on the barge."

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

Outside the Tawdy Bucket, Silver felt unsatisfied and overwhelmed, due in no small part to Gale's magic. He had encountered few more vast, perhaps only a procurator in charge of a cult and a full Imperator possessed by the light of the Ennead. He could feel the wellspring of immanent potential within her. Wellspring was perhaps too calm a descriptor, it smelled more of a raging tempest at sea.

Sledge must have been watching as he cleared their path.

"Wuz goin' on up der Silva, I see da flowa's bloomin'."

Silver did not look up at him, the Pridefolk seemed disconcerted by his eyes. Many were.

"Just wondering about Gale. She seems... overqualified."

Ink chimed in.

"Yes, she did declare herself in charge awfully quickly."

Sledge scratched at his chin with a partially extended claw.

"She doin' a good job so fa', 'n she still settlin' in. She knew wut needed doin' and made sure it got dun. Good leada' ta me."

Ink quickly responded.

"Her efficacy is not in question, I rather like how direct she is. It is more that we do not know her and she is not one of us, yet anyway."

Silver was quick to jut in.

"She is here, and Face trusts her enough to have her on the job That will have to be enough for now. Is this the place?"

Before the trio was a collection of shacks stacked atop one another, matching the aesthetic and construction of the Shantytown. The shacks were a mix of fibrula and stone, generally regarded as cheap but effective. The units perched at the apex of the structure had simple clay tiles mostly slanting towards the back of the building and had a chaotic arrangement that would not likely survive inclement winds. Fortunately for the tiles, being encompassed by the mountain of the Caldera limited such exposures. Each shack had a single window facing out towards the Caldera Lake, most were currently covered by a solid shutter. Leading to each entrance were sets of conjoined stairs of hexagonal stone pillars. A mage had crafted this, it was probably far cheaper than paying for duracrete.

Sledge pointed knowingly.

"Mmm, look like it. Numba' twelf' is up top."

Sledge jumped up the stairs in sets of three as Silver and Ink ascended the stone stairs at a normal pace. Silver heard a loud knocking on the fibrula door followed by Sledge's bellow.

"Any'un in der? Got a soap for ya!"

Silver and Ink responded quizzically as the finished ascending.

"Soap?"

"Mmm, unless 'e loik me, erry'un need a soap."

As they conversed, Silver smelled a blip of magic from beyond the door, it was hard to tell what flavor from here.

"Sledge, careful. Someone just invoked magic from the inside."

"Well ain't dat just curious."

The Pridefolk knocked twice more before kicking the door off its hinges and covering his mouth as if in shock.

"Oops, musta knocked too 'ard."

Ink's look of surprise, however, was genuine.

"I believe most would consider that an act of violence."

Sledge shrugged and entered into the room. Silver followed closely behind as Ink looked for anyone watching before scurrying across the threshold.

"Can ya still sense it Silva?"

He could in fact.

"Yes, but something seems... off. The invocation is barely lingering, so whatever manifested was very short. But I can not identify what type of magic was used here. It is... incorrect."

"Dat 'appen often?"

"No."

The room was in complete disarray, even Sledge would have refused to live in such a state. It was a large rectangle of a shack with only a single room making up it's interior. The light of day had not yet reached the Shantytown and a lack of light within the shack left it coated in shadow. A bed for one, a small desk and cozy chair, and a respectable bookcase made up much of the furniture, excepting of course food storage, both dry and cooled.

Sledge gently walked into the room and paused near the bed, staring at the floor on the other side.

"Mmm, I dun t'ink he breavin'."

Silver rushed over, invoking light from his pendant. Collapsed on his back was the body of a middle-aged Ardorfolk. His red-tone skin felt cold as Silver searched for life, finding emptiness and lifelessness in his dark eyes. Silver's hands moved quickly moved between vital areas, searching for any spark, and he felt significant give in the man's chest. Silver explored more thoroughly and found the man's ribs were not just broken, but completely shattered inward.

"Can ya fix 'im?"

"No, he has long since passed."

Ink was looming behind Silver and commented.

"Not that long, a few hours at most."

Silver did not question this, Ink had a proximal knowledge of many logics and was always able to surprise with a new subject matter.

"You can tell by the way..."

Sledge interrupted.

"No, I dun wanna 'ear it. Dis place wuz tossed."

Silver looked up.

"Tossed?"

"Mmm. Da books outta da case. Bed 'n mattress moved. Dry stuffs opened. Desk bits open. Was lookin' for somet'in."

Silver's gaze followed as Sledge pointed each detail.

"Do you think they found what they were looking for?"

"Mmm 'ard to say. Lad's in 'is noig't gittup, so 'e got waked. Dem bruises on 'is 'ands prob not dun 'imself. Guessin' dat magic wuz a teleport, so dey prob got scared at me voice. Me t'inks dey dinnit find wut dey wuz afta."

Silver had missed the bruises, though he had been more focused on other areas. Reinspecting, it appeared that the tops of both the hands were bruised. Palpating, Silver found both shattered and each finger broken.

"Sledge, would you agree that broken hands and fingers would indicate torture."

"Mmm, 'ow 'is knees?"

After a quick check, Silver found the knee caps to be shattered.

"Broken."

"Ya, das prob 'ow I woulds do it."

Ink had departed from the body and was inspecting the desk, rifling through drawers. Silver saw them begin to pocket a variety of things while Sledge continued to pace and survey the room.

"Ink, what are you taking? We should not be stealing."

Without turning back, Ink responded.

"He is dead, I imagine these bits will not be missed. A set of glasses, ooo a fountain pen, parchment, chalk sticks..."

Ink continued on and Silver stood, finding it best to remain ignorant for the time being. Sledge opened the cold storage and fished around, pulling out a coin purse. Silver looked on, confused and impressed.

"If'n I were tryin' ta hide coin, I'dda put it in der. Also, wuz da only place not tossed."

Sledge twirled the coin purse before tucking it into his waist. Silver must have seemed incredulous as Sledge commented.

"Not for me, for da bar-boy."

"Alright, this is probably going to be more involved than first planned. Sledge do you want to head back to the inn, make your delivery, and let Gale know what happened? I'll go find a Guilder. Ink, any sign that he belonged to one?"

Ink tossed a small object to Silver, a gold lapel button with the image of a hearth filled with flame.

"Tavern Guild then, I will see what I can find. Ink you stay here and please for the love of the Numen do not get caught stealing."

Ink retorted as Sledge and Silver departed.

"I will not be seen."

Silver smelt another invocation as he left, one distinctly Ink flavored.