Janko greets you, “Ah, light guide you, Glass! My cousin has been yapping nonstop about this badass hunter from a most distant realm, but words did little to prepare me for what beauty that stands before me. You are glowing. Like the near moon.”

“Janko, at your service.” He bows.

You tell him it’s nice to meet him too but your mouth is still full.

“Oh, my coat? Well it’s made of the finest Shintari Silk!” He replies.

“You are a lucky man, Zeb. And here I thought you were positively terrified of hunters! You did not tell me this one was your girlfriend!”

“Maybe because she’s not my girlfriend?”

“Ah, is that so? She carries your scent and sleeps in your bed? Quite bold for a Pasturist, cousin! Your Shama would be wagging his finger at you!”

“No, instead he’d be pleased th-that I made her comfortable. It’s God’s word to be a good host.”

Look, that’s his business– and you’re not sure how this is going to help you find Iron, but what the hell, sure. Don’t eat your trampler.

“Exactly! He’s been such a sweet boy, spoiling me the moment he invited me inside. I think he loves how my tail keeps him warm. Very clingy, that Bovani.”

“A– THAT’S NOT TRUE!”

Janko laughs, ”Oh cousin of mine, can’t you see how hopelessly outmatched you are? With the voice of a freshly stoned sword like hers, I can see how her words alone would stray you from your faith! The fences of the pasture cannot trap your heart forever.”

“SH-SHUT up, Janko!”

Janko chuckles, “Ah, I’m just baning at the balls. Honestly though, it is a delightful surprise to see you so comfortable with a hunter. Especially one so exotic!”

The strong Bovani then glances back to you, ”Ah, well I’ll wait outside and leave you two flames a moment, eh?”

Whoa, you mean Sorya. Not Sorrovan. Let’s not mix those up again. One slip up and you’ll have to start this nightmare all over again.

As you watch Zeb collect himself, and struggle to look you in the eye, you hold up the paper. “I liked the pictures in this. Did you draw these?”

“G-Glass, not every picture you’ve seen is something I’ve drawn—no, it’s the weekly newspaper. It’s a collection of news from around the Empire. I thought I left you a note saying that.” He snips.

“A newspaper… What kind of news?” 

“Well, if you turn the page it will tell you. Is this another Gnomanyan joke because I actually don’t get it.”

“No, I’m being serious.”

“So what is it then?”

“I…I can’t.”

“Can’t what?”

“I can’t read.”

“Continental?”

…

“…Anything.”

“Oh. Huh.” Zebs tone changes.

“I… think I might need you to read it for me.”

“Oh, uh… Sure. Sorry. Well, let’s start with that note I left you.”

“Did you… take a bite out of it?”

“I… got issues.”

“It’s wet.” 

“I know, I’m sorry.”

Zeb sighs, “Just-– Look, it basically says that my cousin and I went to the workshop to ask them to help salvage what remains of my crank. And that we’ll be back before midday–- that’s now— and enjoy this fruit and newspaper while you wait. Also, thanks again for saving me and… sorry I got drunk last night.”

Zeb reaches into his pouch. “Oh, and here’s your share for the shipment. It’s a Qothic star. It’s silver.”

“And I… got you a brush. For your tail–I mean your fur.”

You gaze at the shiny coin in your hands, “Oh, that’s very kind of you, Zeb.”

“Of course, I’ll uh, wait outside and let you get ready.”

Hmm, Zeb’s acting awfully strange. Wonder why?

Oh, must be the hangover.

You take inventory and log your first coin.

Illegal fireworks, Yuovo’s Pastry, and your Waterskin seem to be in check. Though, you’ll make sure to refill on water before you head out.

That was very sweet of Zeb to get you a brush. You’ll brush your fur with it.

Though, you still have his Knife and Crank Manual. Remind yourself to return them.

Or not.

Nah, just kidding. He’s very nice.

After you get your things ready, you head out.

You compliment the sword on his hip.

“Ah, It’s quite something, isn’t it?” He wastes no time to unsheathe it, and the first thing you notice is the blade’s unusual shape. “Mandaskan spark-steel forged only in the hottest of flames. What fortune to wield it in Daunto’s name– to uphold his righteousness and protect the innocent.” He offers it to you with a grin. “Would you like to hold it?”

You can’t help but accept the offer, it’s a cool sword.

Upon closer inspection, you notice the blade feels warm to the touch, as if it were a flame that has hardened directly into metal. You check the sword’s point of balance.

Janko’s eyebrows raise, “Ah, seems this one knows her swords?”

“Mhm.” 

“Soldier?” He asks.

“Militia.”

“Must be quite the militia if they gave you a sword.”

“No, I never had a sword in the militia. I used to dance with a one when I was a barmaid.”

“Oh, really? Spark Dancing was a passion of mine back home in Mandasko! Perhaps sometime you could show me the Gnomanyan sword dance, yes?”

You hand him back the sword and change the subject.

“So… uh, what do you do, Janko?”

“I’m a champion of Daunto, if you may. I defend my clientele through pen or sword. Both equally mighty as some may find. Though one must never doubt how mighty the pen can be. I once made great use of one after being disarmed in a duel!”

“He’s like a lawyer that stabs other lawyers.” Zeb says flatly.

“In Mandasko we’re called judicial champions. With the light on my side, justice always prevails!”

You respond, “I never knew dueling was a job. Back home in Gnomanya we shoot eachother instead. Though it’s just something we do to when we’re mildly vexed– or bored.”

Janko smirks, ”Ah, then you may relate with the Qoths. Those ones tend to represent themselves, and don’t really stop at blood. Such a waste of light! I really think something is in their water…”

“But speaking of dancing with the light” he continues, “this one told me that an avatar of the Grand Architect saved your life yesterday, yes?”

You tell Janko that after this Lightkeeper saved you from drowning (because you fell off a boat), she was headed to Cohv. And everyone you’ve met on the way has mentioned seeing her.

“This is all very interesting to hear. But also very impossible.”

“How so?”

“Well, child,” he says, raising an eyebrow, “the only Lightkeeper for hundreds of miles is right in this very city. She goes by Lightkeeper Kivari. Have you noticed the glorious gilded tower here? Of course you have!”

“Your folk really make it hard to miss.” Zeb murmurs.

Janko continues, “It is what us Shintarics call The Beacon and she’s rarely seen leaving it. And as much a delight as you are, Glass, I just don’t see her plunging into the Triumph to save you.”

He pets his mustache. “But it does sound curious. Balls perhaps. But curious.” 

“Well, Zeb said you might be able to help me talk to her.”

“Child, Lightkeeper Kivari is a divine being. You can’t just schedule an appointment with her. The tasks of a lightkeeper are heavy and well beyond our comprehension.”

You feel frustration creep up. “Janko, I have a friend that’s–- missing. And… I’m worried sick for him. Why would she leave me this note if she didn’t want me to seek her out? I’ve been waiting a day for you and I really need something to go off of right now.”

Janko studies the note intently, though you’re certain he’s not really reading it. “Hmm… okay. I tell you this… but you must tell no one.“

You lean in.

“I may be able to pull some strings. I have a… history with the divine. But first, I buy you something nice, no? For saving my delicate cousin’s hide from those depraved meat wizards. Anything you would like?”

This better not take all day, but… shit, you can’t pass up free stuff.