Fortunately, Janko has offered to take you both out for “roast time” as the Siltrians call it, while you mull over your decisions. You leave the tenement and make your way up the Artisan’s Ramp.

Eh, you’ll think about it. You’ve already gotten a few funny looks– one from a city guard, but he kind of just squinted and shook his head at you and that was it.

You head over to a coffee house and Janko treats you to a cup of coffee and some confections.

You break the ice, “So, Janko. You mentioned you were from Mandasko?”

“The city of 10,000 circles and the spark of civilization? Indeed!”

“Circles?”

“Around the sun, child.  Years. 11,592 years to be specific. Did you happen to stop by on your grand pilgrimage to the east?”

“No, but that whole trip was a blur to me anyway.”

“That is a shame. Mandasko is nothing short of pure splendor! You must visit once in your life! Or perhaps twenty times!”

You catch Zeb rolling his eyes at the remark.

You continue, “So what brings you to Siltria?”

“ Ah, child, I am here to bask in the Glory of the 9th Beacon! That is to say, I work with the Covenant of Dawn’s Light, and they requested my presence here to aid in legal matters between Qoth and the Beacon–which, I should add, is Mandaskan territory.” Janko takes a sip of coffee, “Our treaties with the Qoths while amicable…” he sighs, “…can create some spark at times. But tell me, who better to handle such spark than one born from it, eh?”

Janko waves his hand, “But enough about me, has the lovely hunter decided what she would like?”

You ask Janko if you can get a sword.

“A sword, eh? Oh, I’m sure you must miss your blade! That said, in this city, you need a special seal for that—one reserved for dignitaries, like nobility, military, or clergy recognized by The Empire, like me. But eh–not for common folk.”

…Alright, maybe you don’t need one anyway. Swords take a lot of training to get good at, and it’s probably best just to leave the dancing behind.

In that case, you ask Janko if you’re able to procure a firearm.

“Ah, a question befitting a Gnomanyan! I have heard there are a few blacksmiths in Cohv that may dabble in the thunder arts, but–”

“Special seal?”

“Correct, but with more restrictions than swords on where and when you could carry them.”

“Seriously? It’s just a tool. What’s got the Qoths so worked up about packin’ some iron?”

“It’s probably that this “packed iron” in the eyes of the Qoth is meant for the battlefield, and not for the hands of a random street dweller, that may or may not have a spicy opinion of their foreign rulers.”

“But you are able to own one yourself?”

Janko ponders, “I have no need for such weapons, but yes, I suppose my status with the Covenant would deem me worthy, as long as I’m acting in an official capacity for the divine.”

An idea comes to your mind, “Theoretically speaking, would it be possible for you to buy one and just let someone else borrow it?”

“That is technically possible. But it is also illegal if this ‘someone else’ is caught using it.”

“Okay, but let’s say they don’t get caught.”

“I’d say they wouldn’t, because I won’t buy them one.”

Janko sighs, “However child, there is another way you can obtain these “tools” as you say. Perhaps a loyalty contract from a Qothic noble or a guild. Maybe you could befriend one of the noble clans like the Cloumonts– Or in fact, you could just buy one off the Delafords. Or let them buy you. Those ones hand contracts out like spice rolls. Quite the mess that has made!”

He looks to Zeb, “Also, wasn’t carrying weapons a part of your guild contract, Zeb?”

“Yeah, they allow you to have a weapon when out on the road – but you have to return it to them when you’re not working, and they are pretty strict about that. But I don’t know if I’d ever try to buy a gun, I saw them used in the circus and they’re very loud.”

Man, what a rip off. Back home, a pistol cost a bag of rice. No laws. No restrictions. Nothing. Sure, the sounds of gunshots kept you up at night but that’s a small price to pay for fun. 

You don’t suppose you can politely ask Captain Treehead for a loyalty contract?

Now that might actually be a wise move. You know you said you’d give it back, but if you can’t have fun in Cohv then you’ll take what you can get. You’ll hold onto it for him, you know, just to be courteous.

You are still waiting on someone to care.

“You’re not wearing any shoes, are you?” Zeb says with care.

Janko’s gaze follows, “Huh, you’re right Zeb. Those dark paws are not shoes. You see, you can tell I’m not a Pasturist because I’m not staring at feet.”

“Janko, shut up. Glass, I already told you it’s illegal to be barefoot. Why didn’t you say earlier that you don’t have any shoes?”

“No one’s made a fuss about it so it didn’t seem illegal enough for me to care.”

“Glass! You can’t just ignore a law. If the Qoths catch you barefoot they’ll clap you in the stocks! Look, there is a cobbler nearby and I’m taking you to them right now.”

Janko laughs, “Better yet, cousin, take this star and get your renegade woman a nice new pair from the shoemaker instead. She saved you from the cultists, and now you can save her from the Qoths! Ha ha! I’ll meet you two outside when you’re done.”

You head to the shoemaker. A Bovani woman welcomes you in and immediately takes note of your predicament, jokingly congratulating you on the wise decision to spare yourself from the gross communal sandals the Qoth would’ve forced on your feet. As is normal to you by now, she’s very curious about your species and origin, but what catches her attention is the fact that she has never met a hunter with only three toes. 

After taking some measurements, she tells you both to wait while she goes to the back to get you a proper pair of shoes.

Yeah, he does look like an ass biter paid him a visit last night. Not sure if he just wakes up cranky or if those two sips of “wine” finally caught up with him. 

You’ll try to get him to open up, like yesterday.

“You look nice today Zeb, that’s a cute hat.”

“O-Oh. Well thank you, Glass. Y-you too.

“I just want to say thanks for not giving me a hard time for not being able to read.”

“I-I’m sorry for assuming – most people can read in Siltria. That’s one of the reasons I moved in the first place. I just thought that someone with the means to travel across the world would choose Siltria for that very reason.”

“Eh, Siltria was my friend’s idea. The missing one.”

“Can he read?”

“He can, but barely. The old cat’s kind of a drunkard. He peed himself just yesterday.”

“Oh… Ew. And you seem in such a rush to find him?

“Look, I owe him. I wouldn’t really be here without him. Speaking of reading, I should really find someone to teach me.” You nudge Zeb a little, and he jumps, kind of catching you off guard.

“Y-Yeah, y-you really should. It’s kind of important around here.” He says.

…Something’s off.