The day began in its usual fashion. Some poor sap stumbled out of one of Lady Z's establishment, confused as to what exactly had happened to him. The same old, fat baker opened his store only to rage about the fact the leftover bread from the day before had been snatched from his shop again. And everyone else ignored them as if they didn't exist, more focused on themselves than them. The poor saps in the past had once received voices of concern and guiding hands to get them before Lady Z decided to be insulted. That stopped rather quick when it was realized it was a daily occurrence. The baker had hired mercs to deal with his missing bread but the result was always some child that snuck in through the back window or came up from below, removing some of the floor tiles in the process. The idiot store keeper would forgive them with a strict warning that if he saw them again, he'd tan their hide. Then one of the kids buddies would do it and the game would begin again. Eventually mercs stopped taking the hire since there wasn't much pay to begin with. "I wonder which runt did it this time?" a voice mused to himself, sitting atop a building, watching the morning bustle begin. The streets seemed relatively safe. No one ever complained this early that they'd been pickpocketed, only to find the wallet in question at home later. No, the streets weren't the problem. Maroon eyes slid over towards the two shady fellas slipping into the alleyways. Speakin' of saps, any idiot that thought to use the alleys as a shortcut wouldn't be making it home. They usually weren't locals that they found at the edge of the alley the next day, but every now then some cocky bastard would think he could survive it and go in. "Welp," He stood up, dusting himself off, "Best go find somethin' to do," he smirked, jumping down, catching the shop sign below him and swinging down into the back of a wagon before hopping down on to the street, whistling a chipper tune as he melted in to the crowd, headed towards the tall building at the crossroads that was starting to lean a little bit. Unlike Lady Z, the boss spent more of his revenue on keeping the people from starving and other needs of theirs that arose. The last thing he was gonna spend his money on was a building that was still standin' and keepin' the rain out. Now if that roof ever corroded away, who knows what he'd do. Probably just move.

Her dark eyes blink open slowly, taking in her surroundings. The same drab walls look down at her as they have every day. There's whispering in the back of her mind and she sits up, her hand immediately going to the black and red necklace around her neck. It's still there. She lets out a sigh of relief and climbs to her feet, stretching. Muscles across her back and shoulders pop loudly and she pops her neck as well. She walks over to her wardrobe and pulls out a pair of soft leather boots, black trousers, and a loose white shirt. She slips into these things before grabbing a cloak and pulling it on over everything. She pulls the hood up around her face and she walks over to the mirror. Perfect. She looks exactly like a guy. She smiles and touches her necklace again. Power thrums through her fingertips and her ruby lips pull back over her teeth. She walks out of her little apartment and down the stairs to the front door. She walks out into the street and sees that it is already bustling with activity. She notices someone jump down from the roof of a building and she rolls her eyes. Probably an adrenaline junkie of some kind. She then proceeds to scan the street for some victims, looking for people to pickpocket. She, of course, never kept the wallets. She would always track the person to their home and steal valuable things to sell more than she would steal money. But if she ever did steal money from the wallets, then she would just return them to the house. She had no use for the wallets anyways. She notices a young woman a few feet away and she proceeds calmly toward her. She "accidentally" bumps into the woman and slips her hand down into her bag, pulling out a small little coin purse. She apologizes in a deep voice resembling a male's, telling the woman that she hadn't been watching where she was going. The woman bought it and walks off, talking with her friends, which Fox's bright brown eyes laugh as she tosses the coin purse up into the air and catches it, thinking of how easy a target she was. She whistles while she walks, her eyes scouring the crowds for more victims.

Early morning in Craftsmen District. A crack of breaking wood. A window destroyed. A slam of a body hitting the cobbled road in front of The Fletcher Inn. A cry of pain at the rough landing. Gasps of local folk. A tall figure with strange hair exits the inn through the crumbling window and kicks the squirming body in stride. He mutters something in a foreign tongue and spits sideways, saliva missing his long mustache only barely. The one on the ground tries to unbalance him by grabbing him by the leg, but it only makes the big one start kicking the prone man repeatedly, followed by a barrage of curses, cusses and insults. The last kick is directed at his jaw and blood splatters onto the street. Teeth make a rattling sound as they roll down the street. Onlookers step back from the scene. The murmuring of the gathered crowd is pierced by a voice from within the inn, clearly shouting at the tall man. "What are you doing, you stupid easterling?! Who is going to pay for all this damage?!" The man fumed, ready to throw chunks of broken wood at the brute, blinded by frustration. Unfazed by the words of the innkeeper, the big one crouches by the now toothless, unconscious body and yanks the coin purse off, ruining the pantaloons in the process with a loud rip. He shakes out the coins into his hand, throws the purse away and collects ten gold coins. He then tosses them toward the innkeeper. Though surprised, the shouty man still manages to catch them. Then, the tall one bellows out to him. "To cheat Strogobor at cards is one thing. To admit him that is another thing. Neither ends well. Relay that to other patrons." Strogobor places the rest of the coins into his pocket, walks up to his horse in front of the inn and unties her. And then, he walks down the street like nothing happened, guiding the mare through the city. He pats Wojda twice as they go and begins whistling a tune of a battle song he used to sing when his people went to war.

Helpless is the drowning soul, for all their effort, may they never truly break the surface, never truly gasp in a gulp of air - of life. That's what it was, wasn't it? Magic was a slow drowning. Once you've drenched yourself in it, it'll wrap around you until it's swallowed you whole. Still, she's drowning. The whispers are getting worse by day, and by night, the magic calls to her. As if she were still basked in the darkness of the crag, choking on her realizations, on her naivety. She was still shaken from last night, the transformation had been abrupt, uncontrolled. It was a strange thing, this magic. Though it wrought nothing but despair, leaving a broken tattered mess in it's wake, the young woman couldn't help but feel privy to such things. It had chosen her. In a way, she cherished it, basking in the glorious pain and wreck it left for her. She was losing herself in the storm, falling farther and farther into the abyss. Light could barely seem to breach the crack now, but...It was still there - somehow the illumination was still there, waiting for her, calling her back. The pull from both sides left her head aching, and heart confused. The power was intoxicating, but she knew the cost. It had gotten worse lately, that familiar tug at the back of her mind, the whispers, her demeanor had even taken a plunge. Alexia knew that the headache could no longer be the route of the problem anymore. She knew what it was, though it was horrifying to imagine. The water was rising, pushing away any part of her that once was, making room for the vile magic that consumed her - that was slowly pushing forth, close to reaching the surface. Only one of them could breathe at a time, and she knew - Oh did she know, her time at the surface was diminishing. Opening her eyes slowly, avoiding the stranger in the mirror, Alexia hurriedly changed into her velvet trimmed, red dress, admiring the soft feel of the attire before gathering what remained of herself, and heading out of her room and into the main hall of the Inn. Her hair neatly tied back in a soft brown braid, the woman scanned her still tainted eyes about the room, measuring up all those inside. So far, the day had been relatively quiet, compared to it's normal bout of laughter enough to rile even the sanest priest. All in all, today was quite the day. A day to seize, nevertheless. Clenching her fists, and providing the most pleasant smile that could ever adorn the human face, Alexia strode about the room, commanding glances her way. A promising start, now all she had to do, was ensure that she maintained this composer. She was still shaken, and though she could do it well, she could only cover up the involuntary twitch in her hands for so long. Hopefully she could muster enough willpower to keep going, she had a reputation after all, meetings to attend - money to smooch off of others, and perhaps a little stop at the town square would do her some good, fresh air couldn't hurt.

Jasce slowed to a stop, looking around. He had been imagining the conversation in his head when he bumped in to Lev and toward the end of it, he imagined a certain question his friend would ask, "Zoobie," he muttered, knowing perfectly well said girl was not behind him. He put his hand to his face with a groan before turning on his heel and hurrying back the way he came, wondering where on earth he managed to lose her and where she would have managed to run off to. She was never exactly where he left her. He climbed back up on to the sign post looking around for any sign of her, "Ah damn, this sucks... dude's gonna rip me a new one," he muttered, rubbing the back of his head. He looked around the crowd, hoping maybe she hadn't wandered too far away this time. However there were plenty of things to make him forget why exactly he'd been standing up there in the first place. He spotted the coin purse as it was victoriously caught in the air. He smirked a little, shaking his head seeing as everyone around her was so caught up on their own business they didn't even notice. He didn't get a very good look at the victor, due to the fact they had on a cloak and they were mixed in the crowd rather quickly. He could hear the commotion down the street and he leaned to try to get a sight of whatever it was. The second he spots the horse, a somewhat uncommon sight for a town where people often never left and newcomers were usually frightened off or too disgusted to stay, so horses weren't usually necessary for travel. His attention was taken away quite again as he heard some other people near him talking as someone was coming out of the inn. He saw the subject of their attention wa a rather attractive young lady though he tilted his head feeling that something was kinda off, he just didn't know what it was. He jumped as he heard someone shouting at him and looked down, giving a smile and a wave to the store keep who was raging at him to get down before he broke the sign. Jasce was about to defend his case before the keep started looking for something to throw at him. He quickly climbed the rest of the way up, back on to the roof, his memory returning as to what he had been doing. Right. If he didn't a valiant effort to find Zoobie, Lev was probably going to hurt him for losing her again. He looked around, only to spot one of the bosses lackies posting a job on the board near the crossroads, "Oh, money!" He said and jumped to the next building, deciding to take the roundabout route to get to the board. He had to get it first- he was already bored out of his mind

A flash of light. A groan of pain, rapidly turning into relief. That was how hours of tedious magical healing ended, as Rhian healed her patient. He wasn't one of her children. In fact, before now he had sneered at her and her children as they walked by. 'Monsters and freaks, governed by their whore of a shepherd!', he would call out. Rhian had repeatedly held back her children from seeking vengeance. Words would not hurt her, and she could see by his lifeforce that he would do nothing more than shout insults. He was too attached to life to risk anything else.He would be one that would never be converted, she could tell. But he came crawling to her when death seemed to be knocking at his door. He threw away all his pride and claims against her, to cling to life. She could have rejected him, let him die. But then she would have been no better than him, and how can such a person take care of all of her children? So she accepted him into her makeshift healing room, and set about healing all the ails that were killing him. Minutes turned into hours, and she lost track of time as she steadily hunted down and fixed everything she could in his body. When she was done, she sent him on his way. He left, leaving only a humble thank you. Three days. Then he'll be back to screaming insults. Rhian thought idly, sighing. Standing, groaning herself as she stretched muscles that had shifted very little in the past several hours, the Priestess of the Damned glanced behind her at Zek. Her silent guardian stood in his usual place, next to the door, in his rusted armor with his fanatically well kept mace. Years ago, she had found him nearly dead in an alley. nNked, brutally burned, beaten, and stabbed, his tongue cut out, death seemed certain. Yet she refused to give up on him. Saving him had been the longest and most strenuous act of healing she had ever done, and ever will do. Six whole days, stopping only briefly to eat, drink, and take care of necessities. When she was done, they both collapsed into a deep sleep. He awoke before she did and left soon after finding out who healed him, via written notes. When Rhian has awoken and heard the news, she shrugged, thanked her nameless Gods for giving her the strength to save him, and continued on her way. Not everyone would embrace her Gods. She had learned this at a young age. But Zek had defied all expectations and returned, wearing rusted armor and carrying a gleaming mace. From their written conversation, Rhian gathered that he had sworn a debt to protect her life from all harm, that his armor was rusted and never to be cleaned because of his previous sins and failures, and that he would never leave her side. After a few weeks of trying to get him to stop being only her bodyguard, Rhian had given up. Now his presence was as familiar and welcome as her own magic. "Well, come on Zek. Lets see if there's anything interesting going on around the town. Sleep is a long way off for me, and I know you're just going to follow me on my rounds." Zek merely nodded his rusted head, a slight screech being the result of this movement, and followed her out the door. "Probably will stop by the job board, just to see what's going around the town that might affect us. Do you think there are good chances we'll meet one of the children, or convert another? Or do you think it's more likely that someone will be stupid enough to try and rob or mug us? I'm placing my money on the latter, I'm afraid. Not all of the Damned are my children." She continued like this, amicably talking to him about everything from the weather to the likely hood of seeing a thief get caught, as they walked to the middle of town. Interesting things always happened there.

The whistled tune suddenly stops as the man and his horse are intercepted by a beggar, sheepish smile on his face. As with most beggars, it is unkempt, dressed in rags, malodourous to the point that Wojda's excrement smells like rosewater in comparison and with a feigned disability. An amputated right leg combined with a crutch this time. He even has a hat with a wide brim to obscure his lying eyes. It would certainly fool some naive bleeding heart with a coin purse heavier than the contents of his or her skull. "Alms for the poor, m'lord? May gods bless you." It speaks. At least it's not feigning muteness as well. But a lord? What manner of fool would mistake an easterling like Strogobor for a lord? Is it the horse? One would think that scum would remember that there is no lord in this town as tall as a tree or that there is a mercenary of great stature that has no fondness for the lowest echelon of criminals, such as beggars. Of their kind, only the children could evoke sympathy in him and only in the sense that he would teach them how to be proper low-lifes. What infuriates him most about them is how they invoke gods, no matter which ones, without actual reverence or respect, just to leech out money. A con-artist he could respect, but not these lazy rats. "Move aside, filth." Strogobor almost snarls at the beggar. The corners of the beggar's mouth drop, ready to curse at the mercenary. Before he can, the brute swats his hat off, wide brim proving to be its downfall. The beggar witnesses an extended index finger right before the tip of his nose. "Don't." Strogobor says. "And don't dare try picking my pockets or you'll be visiting the Mother of the Damned to beg for her generosity, like you scum usually do." With that, the rat hurriedly hobbles away back into the shade. Satisfied to be rid of him and his stench, the mercenary realises that something is off. The beggar left, but stench remained. Puzzled, he looks around to notice that Wojda marked the road with her dung, far more foul-smelling than it was usual for the mare. Colour was odd too. "Blast it!" Strogobor yells out, kicking an imaginary rock in frustration as the last decent apothecary who knew anything about animal ailments died merely a week ago. As he calms down, he caresses the mare's neck and whispers to her. "Seems like you'll have to visit the priestess instead...Hopefully, her powers work on horses." Wojda neighs assuredly. Strogobor switches the hand holding the reins and starts mapping in the air the path toward the Priestess' lair, as he dubbed it once while drunk. That night ended in a brawl as some of her Damned happened to be as drunk as he was. Maybe offering a donation as an apology for the incident would warm her up to him if she likes to hold a grudge? With his route established, the mercenary recalls a notice board at a crossroad leading to her lair. A job for the old boss man or Lady Z would do him good while Wojda is recovering, Strogobor thinks.

"No." Nothing is more awkward than one of your mothers asking for a ...favor. Lev used the shock of his rejection to escape the premises, jumping out of the open window, on the third story, to the two story building that neighbored it. Wasting no time the man launched himself forward full sprint, clearing blocks in half the time by jumping across roof tops. After he had left the building far from his sights he took a moment, thinking about what all needed to be accomplished within the daylight hours. As per the norm, his over dedication to seeing his assigned task threw immediately had left him with a rather large vacancy in active objectives, he could check some contacts but honestly he knew they would have nothing for doing. Jayce was more than likely being an idiot, and is likely in trouble or blissfully unaware of what he actually needs to accomplish. Or is ruining something Lev had been working on. Or making jokes at Levs expense..... "Speak of the idiot..." Lev spotted his cohort a few buildings down, up to no good yet again. How many times can he say it, we don't need change we need money. Yet his friend continues to risk life and limb for what is likely enough for bread. Lev moves with a speed almost inhuman, clearly driven by the need to correct his friend....He stops atop a moving horse and notices something far more terrible than his friends bad habit, the absence of a small cloaked figure."HE LEFT HER AGAIN!" While he was going fast before, his speed seemed to triple with his rage and worry. Lev's shadow gave enough warning to his companion of his arrival. He stood behind him, his eye brow already twitching. Not a word left his lips but Jayce new an explanation was expected.

Smiling in kind at the admiring faces around her, crimson tainted eyes seeped through the crowd, searching for anything askew. The faint whispers in her head tugged at the back of her mind, pushing past the surface thoughts and demanding attention. There was something, perhaps someone, of interest in the area. Though there was no way to make certain of what it indeed was, as that would require her to sift through the many different tones and whispers at once. All of which would take far too long. Taking a deep breath and reaffirming her attention on the small crowd around her, Alexia cranked up the smile on her lips and flowed through the mass of people, careful not to walk too close to any person in particular. A skilled con such as herself knew better - as did half of the victims in this town. As she managed to make her way out the thick of the crowd, she took note of another similar situation to hers. Except the folks crowding around didn't seem to be smiling. What made her raise a neatly trimmed brow, however, was the sight of a lone horse amidst the sea of bodies. Beside it, a large man stood, incredibly intimidating - if of course, she was easily threatened. In close combat, she knew that this man must truly be a thing of fierce and brutal nature. It made one wonder, whether or not he was as intelligent as he was strong. Normally, the brutish types didn't hold many morals, resulting of a lack of education. Normally. Though the weathered look in his eye wove a different tale. As he trudged off with his horse, Alexia headed her own way. Despite the distraction, she managed to pick her way through the streets, notably easier than most days, a lot of people had stopped to ponder that particular spectacle, so it left a nice path for her to travel. Perhaps she should see about getting some kind of leverage on those with names that could send shivers up even the most hardened mercenary's spine. They held power that anyone would love to have, the kind that with one glance, you could kill. Magic could only give you so much, but politics - to control not only yourself but others, that was true power. Alexia hummed at the sensation fluttering around in her chest, pleasant and uplifting. The first sign that last night's bought had started to wear off. Good, there was no way she would resort to going to the priestess. She'd almost gone to her after she'd first turned, when the initial affect's had started to wear off, and she'd regained some sense. The whispers forbade her to get to close to her, however. It seemed like the magic wasn't fond of this priestess, perhaps it was afraid of her. It was a curious thing, no doubt, but Alexia couldn't ponder it long, as she caught sight of her target. The best way to get started in overtaking any in a high up position, is to get close to them. First, you'd need to get in their "ranks". One of the best ways to do that, was not to join yourself, rather, to convince someone to do your bidding from the inside. Small jobs at first, but then a little more pushing, and with the particular person in a good position themselves, they'd be able to convince other's to start a little civil conflict from within. From then on, she would take over what remained of the band of mercenaries, thieves, and the like. Power was practically knocking on her door, and she was ever so eager to answer. Licking her lips, Alexia straightened her posture, and headed off to where she knew she could find someone working for the infamous three. With silver-tongue at the ready, and power floating just beyond the tips of her fingers, the maiden headed off to the crossroads.

He was half a step away from leaping down to that lovely, rickety job board, about to find himself something to actually do when a particular chill went down his back and his previous train of thought. "Right," he turned around, pointing at him, "Look, dude, she was behind me like ten minutes ago, I really have no idea how the hell she keeps managin' this whole... disappearing act, but I swear, man, I thought she was right behind me...." He sighed, realizing this was not in anyway shape or form going to save him from that eye twitching look his friend was currently giving him, "We ain't finding her around here, you know it as well as I do. Last time I lost her here, she ended up on the far end of Bloodthirst territory and the last time we went lookin' in the same place we found her before, she ended up here, waitin' on us," he said, then motioned to the board, "I-I was gonna get a job for us to do since technically we were on one when we found her once bef- please don't hurt me, dude, and if you do, not the face," he finally conceded realizing that his best bet was going to be to just shut up and try and figure out where Zoobie was, "We splittin' up or do you have an idea of where we should start lookin'?" He glanced back at the board with almost a pout that he was getting chastised about doing small jobs, especially since all the "big" jobs sucked and took too long. But he didn't miss the thief heading that way, the Priestess kind of stuck out whenever she went anywhere, her giant lunking shadow half the reason why, and now the man with the big ole horse was heading this way more obviously so than before and the real pretty lady cut her way through the crowd. "Think we should test our luck and see if anyone down there actually saw her? I mean, she may be short but she kinda sticks out."

It was always an interesting experience to go out into the crowds. Their lifeforce's all mixing together to form a mass of different colors, changing based on their emotions. Rhian made her way through the sea of ever changing color, her guardian right behind her."Ah, Zek I wish you could see this. The colors, the changes! That man is angry, that man is afraid. That woman is suspicious, and that merchant is happy. They all have their base colors, and they are all constantly having minor changes. It's really quite beautiful." As expected Zek gave no reply, verbal or otherwise. Still, she talked to him like he could respond and he hadn't yet given any indication that he wished she would stop. "All these customers and merchants will leave this place, and go back to their families, not a care in the world for those left behind. The orphans and the plagued. The criminals and the homeless. And some of those left behind won't see the morning. They'll starve or die of thirst over night, or be killed for what little they have...or trying to steal from others more fortunate. The remaining ones are carved into three groups. Those who join gangs, the 'boss', Lady Z, Bloodthirst, and all the rest. Those who strike out for themselves, and try to survive all by their lonesome. And those who join us. Those precious few Damned who accept my nameless Gods and I." She smiled to herself as they slowly made their way through the crowd. "Each of the three groups look after their own, but we can at least honestly say we don't actively try to gain more power or take on other gangs. We're happy to do what we can, try to make our 'territory' better for ourselves. We try to keep to ourselves. Sometimes, however, the others forget that just because we don't actively seek violence and try to avoid it, that we will not defend ourselves. Then we must remind them why it is not a good idea to fight with the damned. We've gotten better at it since you and the others joined. You know, the ex-mercenary, the former guardsman, and quite the number of former thugs." It was true. Ever since her flock had gotten someone besides Zek who had a decent amount of experience fighting, most of them had sought lessons. They were slowly becoming more adept at defending themselves. Requiring Rhian to get involved in the occasional fighting less and less. A familiar, large, clashing lifeforce caught her attention, leading a horse with him. "Speaking of thugs." Rhian muttered, halting as Strogobor drew closer. After they had first met, Rhian had made it a minor point to keep an eye on the giant of a man. It was rare to find such a...contradictory lifeforce, and it interested her. As Strogobor stopped, she smiled at him before greeting him warmly. Her image of friendliness was slightly offset by Zek stopping a step behind Rhian, a hand on the hilt of his mace. "Strogobor. It's been a long while. I believe the last time we met you were explaining to me, as I healed your minor injuries, why you were the cause of three broken jaws, four broken ribs, eight cracked ribs, one broken femur, two shattered kneecaps, and five cracked skulls. What can I do for you now?"

Strogobor hastened his pace a little after spotting Rhian. He honestly did not expect her out in the streets this early. Usually, all kinds of people would swarm her at the crack of dawn to cure their aches and mend their wounds. Did Meidiba finally have a quiet night? Unlikely, he was up and about for the last three nights and two days trying to figure out which establishment served the least water in their drinks. When he stopped before her, the priestess greeted the mercenary, with a soft jab at his behaviour. He responded in kind, trying to pay no attention to Zek. "Hail to you, Rhian. I'm glad I left a lasting impression since you remember my work better than I." Strogobor masked his disappointment with a facade of bravado, he genuinely hoped Rhian forgot about the incident. Though, he had to admit it was an impressive incident on all accounts. "But enough about me. You are a warm ray of sunshine in this dark city." The priestess shifted her stance into a pose that spelled out 'get on with it' to the mercenary, but he was certain she wasn't entirely displeased by the comparison. Zek, on the other hand, gripped his mace, making the leather upon which it rested audibly strain. Strogobor didn't like Zek much. Even as a mercenary, he seemed too much of a moralist and rigid for that line of work. And morals don't put bread on the table. Sure, refusing a job for the sake of your own mental and spiritual health is understandable, but Zek had an air about him that made him seem like a person that would turn on his employer if his sensibilities were endangered. Strogobor assumed that was why he was left half-dead and silenced forever. Not that he was more talkative before they ripped out his tongue. But, what annoyed Strogobor the most about Zek had very little to do with his moral compass. In a way, the mercenary could respect his idiocy worthy of a paladin and Zek probably counted as one now. What rubbed Strogobor the wrong way was how Zek treated Rhian. He idolised her earnestly, though that was typical of men who were nursed back to health by women. Sure, it was only natural. But Zek saw a saint in what Strogobor saw a woman. The self-righteous oaf would only dare to pine for the priestess from afar, as if this world were a chivalric romance, while keeping all others away. It is not like priesthood means celibacy, right? The towering man would have counted his teeth long ago if it didn't bear the risk of making him look even worse in Rhian's eyes...figuratively speaking. With that passing thought, he began to word his request to Rhian. "Now, I was actually on my way to you. I know this might sound strange, but do you have experience with healing things other than humans?" Strogobor noticed that she wasn't quite grasping where he was going with this. As far as she knew, he might've kidnapped a dark elf and caused it grievous bodily harm. 'Great', he thought. "It's Wojda. My mare. She's not that well and I don't know any apothecaries knowledgeable in animal matters that aren't dead. So..." He paused, awaiting her decision.

Letting her rose red gaze sift through the populace, Alexia came to a brisk stop when she settled on two young men, both standing next to the infamous requisitions board. Only those desperate or reckless would take a job so dangerous for such little pay, but then again, you did get in good with the group you were doing it for. High risk, but perhaps it had an equally high pay off.

With a purpose rarely seen in this town, she marched over to the two, measuring them up as she approached. This could be as good a chance as any to get information about one of the big leaders in this waste of a city, some kind of information to throw them off balance, enough to wedge herself in, prepared to knock them out of this city for good. High risk, an even higher payoff. She stopped about four feet from the two, clearing her throat to divert the attention both had to her, noting that they were apparently not in the best of moods, apparently the one boy had lost something..? She couldn't quite catch what it was, but perhaps she could use this to her advantage...

Steeling herself, Alexia prepared to dial back her tone, ooze it in honey and drench the boys with it. It didn't hurt that she had taken the liberty to wear a mildly form-fitting dress today. Maybe their age would make them naive, an easier target. Though in their line of work, she doubted it. "Hello there," She paused, not quite sure whether to address them as gentlemen, or to use her instinct and skip past formalities. In the end, she decided it would be best to skip to the chase, they could respect that, right?
"I'm hoping that you can help me with something rather important, but it seems that you could use some help yourselves?" She smiled in kind at the two, her face seeming to glow in the morning light, something taken for granted in a town as dark as this one. "If you're looking for something, I have plenty of assets at my disposal ready to help you, if not, I would still wish to inquire a favor - perhaps one that would be traded for quite a hefty amount of coin?" She had to make sure to sweeten this offer up as much as she possibly could, asking about any of the faction leaders was practically suicide, especially if it wasn't an inquiry about signing up. As she stood, basking in the little light that shone in this part of town, Alexia began to question whether or not this was the best of her ideas.

Jasce's attention was yet again diverted from the situation in front of him as they were addressed by the pretty lady from the inn. He blinked listening to her before looking at Lev, "Doesn't Mama Z," A nickname he had dubbed the Lady with considering her relationship with Lev, "Have a dress similar to that?" he asked, pointing at her before looking back over at her, "And we'll take the coin depending on what the favor is cause Zoob just manages to avoid people who are actually looking for her unless it's us," he thumbed between him and Lev, "Even the best of Boss Man's trackers couldn't find her and that is sayin' somethin'," He said, crossing his arms and nodding sagely. He looked at Lev, "Maybe she went in the alleys again. She's the only person who goes in there that comes out in one piece," he suggested, "How about you go find her and I help this lovely damsel?" He smirked, "Seeing as you turn them up all the time- he's really such a ladies man, you should see how they drape themselves all over him, he could totally have a piece of any chick he wanted with that baby face o' his," he wagged his brows, clearly trying to irritate his counterpart, though it was definitely not a smart move considering he was definitely already irritated at the fact the small female of their trio was lost at his expense.