But leaving the Inn, Jon and Fuss felt the night approaching; shadows were slowly swallowing the streets, disguising the dirt and grime as the rising pink moon revealed it in new light. Second story windows were alit with warm candles and oil lamps, others awash with the unusual, steady iridescence of a core as the bottom stories darkened, the shops closing to customers with the bang of shutters, the locking of doors.

The call of gulls softened as they sought shelter in the rafters, their song was picked up by drunken sailors and hurried hawkers, trying to make a quick sell to an inebriated audience. Horses whinnied, hungry for oats and a chance to lay their bridles down, and the cats finally awoke from their naps to hunt, their lazy guise forgotten as they stalked the looming night.

"You don't think they know what we're doing, do you Fuss?" Jon asked as they walked toward the alley.

"The cats." Jon said, "What if they can think, you know? What if they're smart?"

"How do you know?"

"I don't mean smart like you, I mean smart like a monster. Eli told me about monsters but I haven't seen any, what if there's a monster cat?"

Fuss was silent but Jon sensed he really didn't like that idea.

Jon shuddered, but it was a good point.

"Jon!" Whistler called as they entered the mouth of the alley, "By the moon and her daughters, I thought you'd never be back, I'm dryer then an old boot over here."

"Sorry, Whistler." Jon said, approaching the fire, taking in the alley. There were about fifteen beggars spread out resting, leaning against the wall. A few more sat by the fire, chatting with Whistler, "How many tails did we get?"

"Are you gonna pour, or you gonna just stand there?" Whistler griped as he looked down at a piece of scratched wood and started counting, "About 325 since you left..."

"What?" Jon grimaced, almost spilling Whistlers capful of whiskey.

"Hey, be careful with that." Whistler said, reaching - his hands like baby birds before Jon passed it to him, "We would have a lot more if you hadn't left with all the traps, I had to tell people to come back tomorrow, and we've still got a few here waiting." He gestured at the beggars against the wall.

"More, and..." Jon looked again at the Beggars against the walls, their eyes staring at the big pot of soup, practically drooling. To Jon, who'd just ate - it smelled decent, but imagine how it was to someone who hadn't? "Oh, no. No wonder Eli was furious, Fuss."

Jon nodded, digging into his pocket, "Do we have enough food? I've got a few traps left, Suzy didn't buy them all."

"For these few, sure." Whistler said, "But I'm still gonna have to stretch it, there's a lot more that want to eat then you can feed."

"Alright, Whistler. From now on I don't want you to turn anybody away. I'll find something for them to do to get a Skill and get plenty more food, I want to make sure everybody who wants to eat can."

"Really?" Whistler looked at Jon like he was crazy, "You're gonna need a lot more pots than this one. And a lot more work."

"Yeah. I know." Jon said, sitting down by the fire after he'd passed out his remaining traps, "But once I turn in those tails? I'll have thirteen more copper. I can buy everything we need, we can have twenty times as much tomorrow because I don't need to buy the tools again."

"It's fine." Whistler nodded, "It wasn't like anybody was counting on you doing this, they'll last a few more hours and can eat tomorrow. Now are you gonna taste this, or just stare at it?"

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Jon nodded cautiously, in truth he'd hoped he wouldn't have t0, seeing as how it was made but Whistler brought the spoon to his mouth and Jon took a small sip of the broth, "Wow, that's not bad."

"Just another Ability. It's nothing fancy and don't help things taste good, but Survivor's Rations keeps it from tasting bad and the worst I've ever gotten was a bit of the runs; you know I once ate a dried up fish I found, who knows how long it'd even been there, but I'll be damned if after I chopped it up, it didn't taste just like salami."

Jon grimaced, especially at the way Whistler licked his lips, like remembering a favored childhood treat.

"I once ate my belt." TwoFace added, scooting closer, "We were under siege. We boiled the leather we had, belts, gloves, you name its we ate 'it, Just added a bit of salt...best damn belt of my life, I had a second helping, so I did."

There was a chuckle from somewhere and Jon joined it, and TwoFace looked at him and smiled. It seemed a rare thing for him to do, and it made Jon happy to share it as other's also added their stories of great and terribly things they'd eaten.

"I put that pie right there on Lady Williams lap, and I told her I forgot the fork." Cutter said with a sharp smile.

And the laughter spread, men on the wall scooted closer. New faces came and others left to trap rats, to get another scoop of soup, and by the time the pot was scraped clean Whistler could have used his nose to stir it.

"The ship was wrecked and I was stranded, nothing to eat, no hope in the world, and there she was. Her hair green as the sea, and her eyes were like sapphires. She had the firmest breasts just floating there, like bobbers and boy was I ready to be the bait! That's when I noticed her fin."

"What'd you do?" Spud asked, using his arms to scoot closer. Without any legs he was practically in Whistler's lap.

"What anybody would in that situation...I ate her!"

"What!?" Spud shouted rolling backwards.

"Tasted like tuna." Whistler said as those still awake groaned. The sound of snores were piling up, and Fuss gave a long yawn.

"Hey, Whistler." Jon asked, "Are monsters in the port?"

"Sure." He said it as if it aught to be obvious.

"What do they look like?" Jon asked.

"Like you." He cackled, only for his nose to grow again, "I'm getting tired of that, Jon."

"I'm serious." Jon said, "I need to know."

"Oh. Well they look like they do everywhere, no different then where you came from. There's a few menageries if you're really curious, but they aren't cheap if you're looking to level quick. Most people just go down to the shore, try to get lucky with the Rockies that pop up there, but I wouldn't count on finding anything with more then a small core. Those go quick."

Jon had heard of the cores, Eli had mentioned them and he knew they were what made things like lights and stoves work. Jon hadn't realized they came from monsters.

"Do you have a core?" Jon asked, and Whistler looked at Jon funny, "That I could hold?"

"Perhaps. How much you got left in that bottle?" Jon shook it, "Trade?"

Jon felt like a trick was coming, but he nodded. Whistler then reached into his pocket and pulled out a dead rat. Jon jerked back in surprise, and then horror as Whistler pulled out a knife and scalped the rat.

Fuss shouted.

'Look at what's right in front of you, Jon.' He could hear Eli's voice telling him, a finger tapping him on his head, 'You have everything you need right here.'

Whistler brought his finger up, covered in blood and brains; and what looked like a grain of sparkling sand rested at the center of it.

"It's worth hardly anything, isn't it Whistler?" Jon asked.

Fuss laughed.

"And Core Harvester is a skill, isn't it. A useful one?"

"Of course, just Harvester is better, lot more useful."

"What else?" Jon asked, looking at the limp carcass with disgust, "What else is worth hardly anything?"

But didn't he know already?

'Use your eyes, Jon.'

"I reckon an apothecary would buy the hearts for sure, that's how they make healing potions, not that I've ever heard of using a rats, you'd probably need a good thirty - maybe the eyes if rats see good? I'm sure they do, they must have some essence, if they're out at night so those might sell."

Jon sat there listening, shaking his head as Whistler poked at the rat with his knife.

"Probably the whiskers, do rats have livers? I'm sure they do but let me check, oh, this is just a mess without a Harvesting Skill, those lungs are going to be hard to get to without destroying them."

'You don't see the opportunities right in front of you, you're taking the easy way out.'

"I don't know, maybe a bit's worth per rat? Altogether? Maybe two? It'd sure be a lot of work though."

Jon felt both guilt and relief wash over him. He was such an idiot for not thinking of it earlier, he'd literally had the Beggars throwing away money and an opportunity to gain useful, valuable Skills. But he'd finally understood Eli's hints. His anger. It finally all made sense.

"I was just going to sell them as bait, get whatever I could, since you were just tossing them out." Whistler explained.

Jon nodded. He'd been so focused on the idea of selling the traps and how much he'd earn, that he'd completely ignored the entire point, the entire purpose. Eli had said from the beginning to take his time, to get to know the Port and it's people. Had he really talked with Whistler, or probably any of the beggars?

"This is crazy Fuss." Jon said, "We've barely started."

"We don't even know what we're truly capable of." Jon finished, looking at the butchered rats exposed innards. Then he turned to the side and puked.