It had only just stopped raining so the streets were still wet and slippery today in Vienda. It was cold out, and the outdoor stalls that were open were few, and they were covered by tan tarp that was now heavy with rainwater. The few who braved the open air side of the market hurried through, hugging their coats to themselves.

This meant, of course, that the roofed part of the Kingsway Market, was bustling and quite overcrowded. The close quarters actually seemed to create more heat than seemed possible. The cold air that occasionally blew in was remarkably refreshing, even if it did cause a shiver or two.

The times were getting people down, and the close observer would have noticed the subtle change that had taken place. The murmuring wasn't as loud or careless as it always had been-- in fact there seemed to be a low buzz of unhappiness in the air. There were more Seventen in the market than there had ever been before. Most were on foot, scanning the crowd.

But the Seventen couldn't hear everything, and that was what Robin was counting on. She was wearing goggles and stood on one of the corners. The people that wanted to know the truth-- to know what was going on, would find her. She wasn't hard to find. Everyone knew who she was-- or what she looked like, rather. She always wore green tinted goggles, and moved from place to place.

She liked to think of herself as Vienda's gossip monger. Robin couldn't read, but she could memorize. Her cousin Tabatha could read. They were a team. Robin liked to think she did the more dangerous job.She was risking her neck every time she went out into Kingsway to tell people the news. A real news cryer-- not the fake kind that only told people fake news.

Another gust of cold air blew by and Robin shivered a little, waiting for the people to come and ask.

Bear tramped through the wet streets, his head hung low. Since the riot in the market and the bloody aftermath he hadn't been himself. Quinn had never reappeared and Bear had searched city and countryside alike for his friend. His mood was as dark as the sky.

He found himself in Kingsway Market again, he regularly ended up there when he wasn't paying mind to where he was going. His wet hood was hanging over his eyes as he scanned the Market. Amid the crowd he spotted the signature goggles of Robin the cryer. He trudged over to her, this town didn't make sense to him anymore. Maybe Robin had heard something that could point him in a direction, he was tired of being lost.

"Ello, love. You got any good news for a lonely old hunter?" Bear rumbled.

Robin grinned up at Bear and put a toothpick in her mouth. She chewed on it for a moment. "Yeah arright. I got a whole bit I kin do if there's a lotta people around but sense it's jest you, tell me what ye want ter hear about."

She tugged on her dreds, "I got local news, and secret news, and gossip. General news, news from th'kingsway post, news what the gollies don't like talkin' about." She took a moment to spit on the street. "I got news about murders an' the 'atcher killer. Price'll be dependin' on which ye want ter hear."

Robin picked at her teeth with the toothpick and stared up at the man. Her gaze was unreadable under those goggles of hers.

In the midst of the the mess of the Kingsway Market, a disheveled galdor cocked his head back and groaned. His red overcoat feeling like an oven in the middle of the marketplace. He spoke softly to himself, almost as if pleading to the gods for an answer to this mess.

"I just came out to buy a clocking bag of fruits and vegetables..."

The conditions couldn't have felt worse for him, the closeness of people made him uneasy. He wasn't claustrophobic, but even he had his limits to how much closeness he could stand. The air in the market was hot and humid. The musky smell of body heat and bad breath and a few cut flatulence created a nauseating feel. To make matters worse, that sudden burst of cold air from beyond the market made his cold...

He covered his mouth quickly as he sneezed violently. Even in his own narrative the poor soul couldn't get a break. But needless to say the condition he was in was less then favorable. Now what did he learn as a kid that could help in some way. He thought to himself as he tried to meander through the crowd with his bag half filled with groceries.

In all things you can find balance my son. The world is up to you to mold to your own liking. No it's not perfect, but think of others of your kin who must deal with so much more. If truly you do not appreciate your position then it's up to you to make more of it. Command the line of your own path and make this world your own.

He knew he was resonating the thoughts of his own father. Determined, he moved near the far corner of the market. He found a small spot against a post where he could rest, not in the midst of so many people, but somewhat shielded from the cold air.



The words made his eye twitch. He didn't know if the woman saw him or not. But he did his absolute best to keep himself from overreacting. There was no crime for a lowlife acting like a lowlife and Sole knew if he stepped out of bounds to correct the woman he'd surely end up with a black eye from a passerby. Furthermore with the wealth of Seventen about, it was in his best interest not to cause a scene. But, as he leaned against the post his curiosity was sparked.

Talk that a galdor would not want to hear? Now what kind of talk would I not want to hear that I've not already heard just walking to work? I'll bide my time and see what comes of this. That is if I can understand this creature's distinct murder of the spoken word.

At the mention of hatchers Bear's blood ran cold. His recent miseries had almost blocked that old pain out. A bit of his old self returned and his eyes shone with interest.

"Someone be killing Hatchers?" Bear boomed. "How..where?" It was fairly obvious that he would pay what ever the young lady asked for the news. She had the giant hunter hook, line, and sinker.

"That'll be six tallies, kitten." Robin said mildly. Six tallies was really too much for that amount of news but... she wasn't immune to overcharging a gullible man.

She felt the presence of a golly nearby and stiffened up for just a moment, then relaxed. Hah. Hatcher killing was no secret news. She'd be fine.

The sum was outrageous but his interest was irreparably piqued. He pulled out his leather pouch and counted out the tallies.

"I do hope this is good info, that's a good bit of money for a tall tale." Bear warned, though he did it more out of show. Part of his old spark had returned at the mention of the hated hatchers and that alone was worth the coin.

Large fingers pushed the square coins into the girl's hand. He stared down at her expectantly from his bushy, sad face.

"Yeah sure. 'Nuff ter spin yer head!" She sounded surprised, when she replied, as she took the coins from him. This man really was foreign.

"Th'word on th'street's that a hatcher's killin' gollies. See, problem is legend on hatchers is mighty confusin'. None o'th' wicks what I know want ter say nothin'. An I figger gollies don't know much else. Anyway, officials be sayin' that it's a beast-- but."

She held up a finger and grinned wide. Her voice lowered considerably, too low for anyone nearer than Devin to hear. "But I got sources what say some officials are goin' rogue. Think a hatcher prowlin' around clockin' Vienda's a dumb-as-dates idea. An' she's got a guard on th'job cos she thinks the killer is a golly."

And it's damn conceited of her, too. Humans can kills gollies, think it or not. Robin thought to herself, with an annoyed snort.

"And that en't no good for gollies. They don't like ter be suspected. And if it is a golly. Well. I'll leave ye to yer own conclusions, but I'm thinkin' that en't good for th'state o'th'nation, if you catch my meaning." Robin shrugged mysteriously.

Fion was also at the markets that day, although she was looking for vegetables, not information. She wasn't entirely pleased with what she was finding. The rains always seemed to make it much harder to find decent produce. Everything turned to mush. Fion's garden had yet to entirely succumb, thanks in part to her decision to dig a small trench around the beds that led down to the back fence. All she wanted was some bloody root vegetables to roast.

It was only by chance that Fion saw Bear and Robin. Fion had never spoken to the younger girl, it wouldn't do for a spy to be caught buying information in the open, especially since she gathered her own from very different sources. She approached them anyway, it had been a long time since she'd seen Bear. Months had passed. She felt the golly's field as soon as she was close to them and she could see him, leaning about like he was listening.

Fion smiled at Robin, making a small sign in the air that meant a golly was nearby. Then she made another that indicated he was listening. Solitais wasn't in their eyeline as she did so. She didn't want him to see.

"Bear, it is good to see you in Vienda again." Fion said, ducking her head slightly in greeting.

Bear was still shocked at the news he'd just been told when he looked down and saw Fion.

"Miss Fion! So very good to see you too. I haven't seen you since the trouble here in the market. How are you darlin'?" Bear boomed, true excitement in his voice for the first time since the riot. Fion was one he counted as a true friend, one of the few he could genuinely trust in Vienda.

"Sorry for not saying goodbye last time. Its been a rough life since I lost Quinny. Trying to find my way again, been a bit lost as of late." He continued. The thought of a hatcher loose in the city or even a murderous galdor posing as one had latched itself in his mind.

Robin nodded at Fion and then winced when Bear roared a greeting. "Oy. Keep it down, yeh? En't no need ter attract attention." She tugged on her dreds nervously and hopped from one foot to the other. "Not with how things're these days."

Bear stared down at Robin and tugged on his beard with his massive right hand. "M'sorry lass, didn't mean any harm. Just haven't seen my friend here in a while. Was excited to see her well."

He turned his eyes back to Fion and nodded toward the cryer. "She was telling me bout a murderer in Vienda. Folks saying its a hatcher. That true? I've been out in the wilderness looking for my Quinny, lost track of the town a bit."

Fion actually did make a small sound of surprise as Bear loudly announced their aquaintance. She smiled until she heard the news about Quinn.

"I've been well." Fion said, not wanting to go into too much detail. "I'm sorry to hear about Quinny, he was a dear thing."

Fion hated the thought of losing Stride, it was a horrible thing to lose a pet. Especially one as loyal as a bander was. If Bear had been out of town for that long, it was clear he had missed a lot of news.

"It's true." She lowered her voice. "Perhaps this is not the best place to discuss it."

She inclined her head towards the golly she could sense nearby.

"A lot of things have changed and not for the better." She said, frowning.

As he tried to listen he was unable to catch everything. He had to do something or else they were going to run off and he'd be left in the dust on what a galdor shouldn't hear. His exposure to the underground "tek" language was at best laughable. He was confident, or at least cocky, enough to think he could fool a bunch of humans and wicks into thinking he was a trustworthy. Besides, even if they did tell him something important it's not like he could do anything? He had no official standing. He put on a gentle smile and prepared himself as he readied to confront the small group.

Alright Sole thought the galdor, Let's see how good you are at wooing the dogs.

He swiveled his steps around the corner of the post and walked up to to Robin, Fion, and the oddly named Bear. He prepared his tongue for the crudest bastardization of the language he could surmise from his limited exposure to criminal talk.

"Hesta far'ye? Col' day today ent it? Not just cause of all the brigk perusin' the streets since the riots broke out. S'rry folks, didn't mean to eavesdrop. Kinda thinkin' I might be wantin' to hear the word, if you heard?"

Robin could clearly feel Sol's field. The way he talked didn't endear him to her further. She glared, although he couldn't see it behind her goggles.

"Can't ye read?" She snapped, "Don't you got good golly papers ter look fer yer news on? Might not want ter lower yerself t'consortin' with us lower folks."

Robin wasn't afraid of no gollies. Then again, she'd never encountered any in a fair(ish) fight.

He expected as much. After all, he couldn't walk into a pub and order a bottle of fine wine. He couldn't go to the circus to meet the king and queen. He wouldn't go to the Seventen if he was looking for a prostitute. But he was a galdor trying to get something out of a wick.

"Never the warm welcome, always the cold stare. You could be wearing the ten masks of deception and I'd still know you hated me with that voice. Ironic that one of such poor position would wear the mask of the snob. I can take two looks at you and know you don't give a damn what I think about you or what you have to say, and you would be right. However, that's exactly why you're going to help me..."

He decided it was best to change his tone and probably try and be a bit more sincere. He gave a bow of courtesy, that which stung more then the bitter bursts of cold air, and spoke casually as he normally would.

"Forgive me, I won't mince words. I'm an office clerk. Someone of no consequence to the thousands of people you see every day. But, I am someone of a curious mind. You mentioned earlier that you had info about something I wouldn't want to hear. Now, I've heard every insult, secret plot rumor, conspiracy, and serial murderer stories I could want to hear. You could tell me that a resistance was planning an attack on Vienda today and there would not be one honest galdor in this whole city that would take me seriously. And what would I have to describe the person that told me? Some strange wick in Kingsway Market...? No, poor creature I want the word that you think I need to hear. It's a simple act of curious faith and backhanded charity, but what you said inspired me. So I have a proposition..."

He reached into his pocket and pulled out the six shills that he had left after shopping. It was a lot of money, even for him, but a galdor walking through the streets with no money is safer then one with pockets full of change. He held the shills, only out far enough so Robin could see and not touch, resisting the urge to give a big coy smile.

"Tell me what I don't want to hear, and this six shills are yours. Tell me something I've heard in a common paper, and I'll toss the shills down the sewer drain right now..."

Fion's shoulders slanted forward and her eyes dipped down as soon as Solitais approached them. She had no interest in making him angry, he was just a man on the street, throwing his weight about. No, she didn't want him hearing words he didn't wish to hear. Gollies were not kind when you told them such things.

"The girl is just a gossip monger." Fion said, flicking her gaze up to Sol and then back down again. "Just local gossip."

She ran her thumb over her left hand. It looked like a nervous gesture, brought on by fear of Solitais. It was actually a sign to Robin, one that indicated she should stop speaking. Fion drew her hands together, rubbing them against the cold, tapping her fingers against her knuckles.

It meant they they should leave, possibly running.

Bear disliked the pushy fellow instantly. He was not one that enjoyed hearing women, no matter their race, being talked down on. That was the norm with gollies it seemed, looking down on folk. This one seemed to be more than he was letting on, the way he shifted from friendly to haughty was disturbing.

The strange galdor seemed to have affected Fion, the last time they had been standing here had turned into a nightmare that neither wanted to repeat. She made a nervous gesture and Bear could taste the tension in the air.

He stepped forward, his mountainous form demanding every drop of the golly's attention. "What did you say your name was sir?" Bear asked in his deep, resounding voice as he stuck out his slab of a hand in greeting. While he wasn't completely sure of Fion's plans, he didn't figure sticking around to deal with a testy golly to be high on the list.

If her and the little goggled news crier wanted to make themselves scarce, Bear would give them that chance. Devin Berach had faced the legendary Vradire and lived. An uppity galdor in a marketplace was definitely within his abilities to handle.

Robin snorted and grabbed Bear's massive forearm.

"Ey kov! That money en't goinna none but me. 'Scuse." The girl wasn't smiling. "Getcher man outter 'ere lady. Don't look like he knows much o' what Vienda's about."

She was both insulted that Bear had almost shaken hands with a golly, and that he seemed to think Robin couldn't take care of herself. Robin had been doing this job for a long time. If she didn't know how to deal with the occasional golly, she'd probably be dead in the gutters by now. She wasn't the civilian here. And that golly had bowed to her. How much more condescending could you get without slapping her in the face?

"Arright wordy birdy. Ye want a bit o' news?" She hissed, stepping closer than Sol probably liked. Robin didn't know about personal space. "I gots plenty o'news ye'd that en't in th'papers. Lessee."

Her face was inches from Sol's now. He could see his reflection in her goggles.

"Th'butcher, York, they say 'es shakin' it up wiv Fred who's th'assistant carpinter. Nasty 'abbits. Vance's threatenin' ter fire Fred cos he don't want no sissies workin' for 'im. York's married and 'es got two kids. 'is wife supsects but en't doin' naught. Says as long as York keeps feedin' 'er kids she don't care none. But news 'as it she's made 'im sleep in a different room."

Her hand spread out for the money. "That'll be six shills, Sir Toff."

Fion wanted nothing to do with this. This was exactly the sort of attention she tried to avoid. She was an informant, invisibility was her favoured way of being, unless she was at a bar. Then she was considerably more ballsy. It was a survival mechanism and if she were honest, a reflection on her personality. She still liked to bait people when she could get away with it.

This was not the time or place for her to get away with it...

She shrunk back, tugging on Bear's arm for a moment. She didn't want this to escalate.

He couldn't help it, his lips pursed as he snickered and laughed. The combined slaughter of the goggled one's language, the gruffness of the giant "bear" or the shyness of the little girl was too humorous. This entire group sounded like the heroes of a poorly written adventure story. Never the less, he had to at least match their hilarity with his own coy wit. He took a turn to the "bear" and smiled.

"I didn't. And I don't have many reasons to tell you my name now since I don't imagine I'm going to want to meet you again."

The little one, who was obviously scared, had said nothing to him. So he decided to say nothing in kind. But he did turn to robin in response to her story. That did count as a story he hadn't heard from the paper. But that was hardly a story he wouldn't have heard from the golly cock hens who hung around vienda. But, the courage of the woman was admirable. Sans the slaughter of language she was mature enough to have a serious conversation. So he gave her the benefit of her courage. In one simple movement he dropped six shills into the hand of the woman and smiled.

"If more wicks, humans, and passives could just act civil like you have today, there would be less problems for me. But for your own sake, go see an speech teacher. There's no law against learning to speak a little clearer."

He took a step back. He was uncomfortable with that amount of closeness, but only for so much time.