Yulina was not always one to frequent the taverns of the Harbor, though she had a few haunts that were more favored over others. The Henchwitch did pay her regular visits to the Black Dove out of principle, but it was not necessarily high on her list of favorite places to be social. When there was work to be done, however, she couldn't complain. She did find it only slightly ironic that she'd been asked to get in touch with the very woman she'd already spent so much time researching.

What kind of game was she getting herself involved in, anyway?

At least gollies weren't hard to miss when they were around. The slim blade of a witch had been sitting in a booth for a while now, resisting the urge to carve drawings into the worn, dirty surface of her table. Her green eyes distantly studied the crowd that ebbed and swelled in the Dove, noting faces, watching mannerisms, absorbing the surroundings, and eavesdropping as was her usual wont.

Curious and patient, Yulina was willing to wait a bit longer to see if her newest assignment would appear. She liked discussing information almost—but not quite—as much as digging it up.

if Amani's mother had asked her where she had been that day, the answer would have been short and curt.

"Out."

She had been 'out' for a few days, asking questions, meeting people, and being generally sneaky. It was hard to do that when you were a galdor. She was tired of hiding, and when she was tired of hiding she usually visited the places she was most familiar with. These places did not include her apartment.

The Black Dove was by now, used to her presence. Heads didn't turn as much as when she had first arrived, and her field was a common one.

She had only to glance at the waitresses and she was already being brought a magma in a large wooden cup.

Amani sat down in the middle of a crowded area-- preferring that to sitting in the shadows. Sometimes solitude was best enjoyed when surrounded by people.

Yulina at least waited until the waitress delivered the Mugrobi woman's drink before sliding from her seat and slinking across the tavern. There weren't any other galdori around, and she'd done enough of her own homework to know who she was looking for. She was, if anyone had bothered to ask, quite good at what she did, whatever that entailed.

"Good evenin'."

If it'd been something like casual interest, which was mostly uncommon for the slim witch, she might have asked permission to sit, but, as it was work, she just slid into a seat as if it had been waiting for her the whole night.

"Miss Zolai," the green-eyed Henchwitch offered something of a wry expression, the deep scar from ear to ear across her face puckering as she did so. Unlike the other galdor who'd requested her services, Yulina had at least taken the time to find out Amani's full name in her spare time, "I 'ere yer lookin' for some things. I've been asked tae lend a 'and by someone we know in common."

The name was the only thing that made Amani look up and lock eyes with the witch. Her dark blue eyes were fixed on Yulina sharply, and her field was suddenly trained on the other witch. It relaxed, promptly, when Yulina continued.

"You are one of Hawke's witches, then?" She asked in a bored tone of voice, although her face still conveyed interest. "The one Corwynn told me about. Are you going to help me find who killed Urchin?"

She pulled one of her longer daggers out and began cleaning her fingernails. Was that blood in them? She wrinkled her face distastefully.

"My own investigations are...not going well. They were not lower men of the Drain, though. Otherwise why would they keep such a secret so close to their chest? No... Definitely not."

"Oes, that'd be me. If I ent able tae find out somethin', then there ent anythin' tae know."

Yulina replied curtly, not necessarily resenting that the blond galdor had (yet again) requested her assistance so much as revealing a hint of distaste for the man in general. Still, this swordswoman didn't seem like such a burden; she at least seemed to enjoy sharp objects and getting to the point. Winning personality traits as far as the Henchwitch was concerned.

"Our investigations 'aven't been goin' well, period. It ent just ye." The pale woman scowled—the most natural position for her face, it seemed—and shifted her gaze to watching Amani's dagger instead of her face, "Though, tae be 'onest, murderin' a boch seems like somethin' petty. If it were meant tae be a warnin', I'd think they'd go for a bigger show. Then again, they're all a bunch of eels, the 'ole lot of 'em clogs."

Without delicacy, Yulina looked up and tilted her head, "Ye didn't clean up yer place already, did ye?" She understood it'd been a while, but an inquisitor could hope, right?

"He was caught during a raid. This I have been able to find out."

And a bloody long time it took me, too.

"It was not a warning, or anything political... putting him in my home, well. It was more like adding injury to insult. There was really no reason. Only to hurt me, after they had finished hurting him."

Biggest mistake they've ever made.

Her smile was flinty and cruel. She could see her victory in her minds eye. They would suffer.

"My home was untouched. It still is. You may look if you wish, but I do not think there is anything to find there. Only layer after layer of dust."

She extended her hand to examine her nails and then got back to work on them with the sharp tip of the blade. Her drink sat on the table, untouched.

Yulina made a noise of distaste in the back of her throat, emerald eyes sliding away to glare at the crowd for a few moments in thought. Amani was hardly a long-standing member of the Brothers, and that street child wasn't even Hawke's property to begin with. It didn't really make sense, but some of how the Drain operated never seemed to make sense. The slim witch had the sudden urge to watch something squirm in agony as she cut it into tiny pieces.

"Even if there ent nothin' tae see, there might be somethin'. I might still take a look." She looked back to the Mugrobi galdor with a shrug, "After that, it'll jus' be time for some research of a more unpleasant kind. If yer sure they ent on the low end'o things, that saves a lot of work right there."

The Henchwitch leaned on the table top, resting her chin on her knuckles, "I might 'ave a few tongues around that've been needin' a loosenin' anyway. Ye ent one tae watch, are ye?"

"Unpleasant? No. No I do not think so." Amani said with a quiet smile. Her expression faded after a moment and she stared at Yulina.

"I can watch...if that is what you are asking... my own methods of questioning are...messy." She had killed several men the last time she'd try to find things out... It had helped her by making the others talk faster, but it wasn't very delicate. Amani had a hard time with delicate.

"I ent gotta problem with messy." Smirked the scar-faced witch, who as Hawke's inquisitor had more than once earned her title with blood. She realized that Amani was fresh enough to the Brothers and the Harbor to have not yet witnessed Yulina's handiwork ... especially since there weren't many who could breathe word about their experience under her hands. She seemed to consider her options, as if running through a list of faces and names, informants, connections, prisoners, "Give me a couple of days tae get a few favors rung in an' we'll 'ave ourselves at least one clog who'll be up for talkin'."

"Ye've been tae the Palace before, right? If not, jus' make that towhead give ye directions. 'E likes feelin' useful." It was difficult to discern, but the Henchwitch may have been joking, though something sharper lurked under her sarcasm.

"I know where it is. I do not need him for this." She was trying to separate Corwynn entirely from the association this investigation brought to her mind. Death of a child. The cold feeling in the pit of her stomach. Cor was a friend, if nothing else. She didn't want that for him.

A part of her realized it might be inevitable anyway.

But she'd be damned if she wasn't going to try to stop it before it happened. Whatever it was.

"Fair 'nough." Shrugged Yulina, casting a glance around the tavern thoughtfully, tapping a gloved hand on the tabletop as she put things together in her thoughts,

"Meet me th'evenin' of the third. I'll 'ave someone willin' tae talk by then." The slim witch grinned, but it was something hollow and cold, like whatever excitement she got out of the idea came from the act and not the planning, "I'll let the guards know tae expect ye, not that I think they'd give ye any trouble, of course."

She chuckled, not yet making a move to leave. For a moment, the Henchwitch considered sharing the information that she'd been hired to investigate the Mugrobi woman, but she wasn't sure if she really was interested in stirring up trouble ... yet.