Deep Town struck a magnificent figure in the late autumn light. The troop had passed through gates with little fuss, despite the general dreary mood. Neither the Captain or Mercy would look each other in the eye, nor would they participate in jokes or bets like they had on their journey to Patten. Clint eye’d them with worry as both the captain and his childhood friend silently detached from the group just when they got back to the upper hold. He wondered what was going on but held his tongue. “I've been beat enough times to know not to speak out of line in the Hold” he thought, watching his friend's small back get smaller down the hall. He would have kept on gazing but Sean gave him a firm tap to the rangers shoulder. Clint looked over to the quieter of the two twins. He could tell it was Sean as soon as he saw the lonely scratch on the man’s nose. The lieutenant had been a support for Clint over their grueling training. Though being short of words he always seemed to give Clint just the right kind of advice, never harsh or competitive “by god he got enough of that from Mer”. The troop moseyed back to the sleeping quarter, flopping on beds, cleaning weapons, and playing cards were the group's respective pastimes. “Cept Mers not here so I guess I’ll just hit the bunks” Clint muttered. “Oh don’t mope Clinty I’ll play cards with ya” called Sam enthusiastically from across the quarter. “I’ll pass” Clint replied. “Though I appreciate it Sam, I’m gonna get some shut eye” he replied. It was noon but since they were on leave it was as good a time as any to catch a snooze. He’d get Mercy to play cards with him when he woke up and ask her what that was about. Unfortunately the ranger wouldn’t see his fellow orphan anytime soon.

Olivia slipped down the narrow trash wrought streets of the lower city. Children littered her path, frail men and women worked endlessly to transform mushroom paste, blind fish, and muscle pulled from the caverns below into something edible. To the medic’s left an alleyway, gurgled moans of pain and wretchedness echoed out. She shut her empathy down before it made her do something irreversible. Because judging by the sound there would be little she could do for the poor fucker anyway “damn brass knew what they were doing” she thought with a snarl. She snaked over graveled stone, round corners, and aged wooden bridges, only once stopping to look down at the farms in the deep before continuing on. At the end of her trek through the unwashed and uncared for hell that was lower town, the medic finally arrived before her destination. Hidden between an old abandoned orphanage and a similarly decrepit church was a stairway leading down to the two buildings now shared cellar. Upon her entrance into the descent she glazed at the familiar title of the bootlegger operation she was entering “The Faithful Orphan” it read. “Oy liv is datchu?” a kid not yet fifteen prompted from the bottom of the stairs. “Ya know any other blue who knows their way ta this shit-hole?” she lazily called back. “Actually tis why I’m out here liv” Olivia raised a single brow “oh really Snapps, that so?” she replied, giving her younger brother a playful rustle of their matching black hair and smiling into the likewise shared pale gray eyes to hide her worry. “And who’d that be?” she inquired. The boy shrugged “Don’t know but he knows the passphrase” he said trying to shoo her hand away. “Boss said to letim in” he finished, while Letting her step past the metal door. “Thanks for the heads up Snap” she said with a warmth she reserved for him. “No prol’em sis” he called through the closing door. Sauntering her way through the makeshift yet well established bar, she made a point to acknowledge greetings from fellow patrons, while also knocking the heads of thugs dumb enough to mistake her as one of the brasses numerus bootlikers. Slowly but surely she made her way to the guarded door on the far wall. She gave a curt nod at the pair of sentinels as she passed between them, entering a dimly lit dome of a room with two figures seated round its one solid stone table. Olivia walked over slowly and silently before taking the third seat and sipping the drink she’d been offered on her way through the bar. “Care to explain whatcha is doing here?” she said with mock venom to the first man across the table. “Cause if the brass find out you’re not staying in Atten like a good old mut it’s gonna be yer neck” the man visibly smirked despite the dim lighting. “Those thrice damned imperialists are too busy chasing the tail of our little monster to worry about an old dog” he chuckled slowly, whilst reclining in his seat. “Hope they are or our jobs gonna be a lot harder” the old man finished with a contemplative smirk. Olivia raised her brow in curiosity. “Ya mean he survived his mission?” she asked. “Aye” he said, eye’s going distant with worry “wouldn't say he survived in whole but at least most of him is there” he answered, setting down an empty glass. The medic was about to ask what he meant but it seemed the third man to their table trio was a pace ahead. “Whacha mean by dat Derns?” the small rat-like man asked. “Is little monster alright?” involuntary fidgeting in place, the “big” boss fixed the old captain with an inquisitive stare. Dern sighed while refilling his cup “he smells like one of them Rinni” he said, addressing the man behind the Faithful Orphan. “Something out there made a home outta him, slithered into his soul, described it as a gift he did” he said before downing his drink and groaning to a stand. “But it won’t affect our plan” he walked to the door “just don’t get on his bad side and the man might just be the gift he claims to have” he said in a contemplative tone.”gotta make the danger work for you” he quipped “Ain’t that right Rinni?” the man in question frowned with annoyance before muttering something about not applying to old friends. “I know Rinni, I know,” Dern said reassuringly while giving his friend a departing yet comforting gaze. The boss seemed to gaze at the door in worry before with an equally fidgety movement snapped his attention back to the medic, eye’s looking melancholy. “Liv I know ya’s don’t like ‘em very much but…” he paused. “but if ya see 'em tell him to stop by for a drink, aye?” the medic looked at her “employer”, tensed, sighed, and accepted. “If I get a chance I’ll tell da fucker” she said reluctently, before making her own exit.

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