Mirrah couldn't help but release another sigh, running her hand through her red hair to sift loose strands back to their regular position as well as to pull out foreign gray strands...which she was sure now didn't belong to a human's head. "Like I said before, I'm not your errand boy. How the hell am I supposed to protect you from flying fists if you keep sending me away?"

"Mirrah, our client." With that Wilhelm turned on his heels and began moving in some direction, any direction, Mirrah imagined, that led away from the marketplace. She had little choice but to follow after him, quickly taking her position a single step behind him.

"I did, for your information, but still, I'm not paid for recon. I'm going to expect extra from this."

"That's fine. After watching you potentially damage merchandise, I'd say I'd dock that recon extra. That's leaves us...oh, seems you're back to your original pay."

Wilhelm turned sharply down another street, Mirrah matching each movement with a swift step.

"You can't dock my pay for potentially damaging goods when I haven't!"

"Hazard fees."

"Wilhelm, sir--"

"What were we talking about before? Oh yes, our client. Did you find out anything, Mirrah?"

Mirrah let out a slight groan. This was her most unreasonable charge yet. Surprising she hadn't grown used to it yet. Mirrah turned her eyes back in front of her, looking beyond Wilhelm's steps towards the people crossing in front and walking past before continuing. "Her name's Lorena Setha'elle...probably with less syllables and maybe less vowels. Judging from the rumors circulating the townsfolk, she's a foreigner and not human. Maybe myr. Quite a looker supposedly, but you can't trust what men consider beautiful."

"Did you find out what she might might want from me?"

"Well I couldn't quite ask her over a cup of tea. And besides, you're a merchant. What else would she want besides your goods?"

"Most people find me when they want my goods. The only time someone's wanted me to come to them was when they wanted information." Wilhelm stepped around a man. Mirrah managed to slip around him to keep Wilhelm from being eclipsed, a gesture that earned her a strange glance. Wilhelm continued once the space between him and his guard closed up. "I'd like to know what I'm getting into before jumping in."

"Well I can't help you with that."

"No, I'll just have you jump in before me."

"That's what I'm paid to do, sir."

"Stop calling me sir, I'm hardly old enough to be called sir."

"How about Mista Wilhelm then. Deeah Mista Wil--"

"Did you find out where she wants to meet us?"

"Sir. Actually..." Mirrah reached out and took hold of Wilhelm's arm, a feat that was hard to achieve with that giant closet of a coffin hanging off his back. She pulled him to a stop, lifting her other arm to gesture to a building they stood before. "Silent Cicada. Bar and Tavern on North Street. We were to meet her noon sharp."

"Oh goody." Wilhelm turned his head up, glancing at the sun that had just teetered off the edge. "Looks like we missed her by an hour."

"That's why I said were."

"Thank you for that lesson in grammar, Mirrah. Really." He shook off Mirrah's grip and readjusted the hat upon his head. "Hopefully she sat around to see if we'd come."

"I don't think they let minors in there."

"Then pretend you're twenty one. You've already pulled seventy quite well a few minutes ago, twenty should be a piece of cake."

"I was meaning you, sir." Wilhelm had already passed through the swinging doors. Mirrah didn't let them swing back in place without her on the other side.