Gunnar leaves The Tinker’s Place with barely any additional information. Caw looks a little tired, but Gunnar knows that Boss and WayWocket should be back at the Hall soon.

As he starts up Coin Street, the area is dense with Dwarven merchants. As usual, the Dwarven covetousness shows itself as they step out, seeing a possible customer. But as each Dwarf merchant lays eyes upon Gunnar, they turn away with a look of revulsion.

Caw growls, and his hackles rise. At each reaction, he can smell the hatred pouring off each dwarf. Gunnar pats him. “Don’t worry, boy. This is just a shortcut.”

Gunnar’s family name used to be Wersten, but now due to his exile, it is Nessuno or No-one. It was his belief in his father’s and grandfather’s words that made him an outcast. If he’d known what he knows now, would he have made the same decision?

As is the way of gossip, every Dwarven family knows of Gunnar’s disregard of the traditions of family first. He knows what he did uphold those traditions, but he didn’t realise that it was the Dwarven family that was supposedly the important one, not his newly formed family.

Focusing on the end of the street, Gunnar notices a large wagon filled with sturdy wooden furniture. From a brief assessment, he decides it is made of hardwood from the Northern Colonies. Each piece would be worth over one hundred slips. There is only one Dwarven family who has access to this quality: the Wersten.

Caw leans against Gunnar, sensing his rigid and dread-filled body. Stepping in front of Gunnar to protect him, Caw shakes his hefty head, then brings it low, setting his paws widespread in readiness to protect Gunnar with his life.

Petrified by this chance encounter, Gunnar looks left and right, hoping to find another route. Sighing in resignation, he knows he will have to walk past his family’s wagon.

With a quick prayer to the Green aspect of the Trinity, he hopes it will give him the strength to follow his path.

Wind is the breath of soul who lives

Fire warms the hearth and allows us to live

Water is the gift of life and gives us peace

Earth sows the seeds and grounds us in reality

Life is the bringer of all we are

Death is the completion of the circle we see

Two Dwarves are unloading the wagon, unwrapping each piece from its soft woollen blanket. Gunnar automatically recognises them as his two older brothers, Balon and Gelmar, the bright gems of the Wersten family. Looking to the other side of the road, he could potentially sneak past before they notice him. Crossing the street quickly, his head low, Gunnar hears a gasp. “Balon, can you see a Nessuno?”

Gunnar glances back. Standing on top of the wagon is his eldest brother, the one who beat him on the night of his exile. Fear starts to rise in Gunnar and settles in his bladder. The need to urinate is nearly overwhelming. Feeling Caw’s hairy shoulder bumping him, Gunnar knows he isn’t alone.

Gelmar comes around the wagon. “You are right, brother, but it is hard to see. Maybe it is some beast? Or sewer rat?”

Balon, catching his brother’s jibe, continues. “Yeah, I can smell him from here.” He points at Caw. “He is so poor he has to buy a mangy, flea-bitten, disease-ridden mutt. We should report this pestilence of a mongrel to the Watch.”

Fear fades away, replaced by rising anger. Insulting him is one thing but never any of his companions. He squares up to the Dwarf on the ground while Caw growls at the one on the wagon. “What did you say, brother?” he retorts, stressing the family connection. “Kindly make it known that this is my loyal companion, far more loyal than my family would ever be.”

Shocked by his words, the other Dwarves in earshot stop what they are doing to watch the exchange. They know this will be the next scandal if the brothers allow it to go on too long. Balon hops down from the wagon and grabs an iron crowbar. Mirroring this, Gelmar picks up another crowbar.

“What did you say to us, Nessuno?” Balon shouts. All the Dwarves in the area turn away, shielding themselves from this taboo. “Just go back to your hole, or should I say your whore!”

Caw starts to growl next to Gunnar, but he pats the mastiff to calm him. “Big words there, Balon. You planning to use that iron bar to crack my head open, Gelmar? Careful, you might get blood on all that expensive wood by bashing a poor Watch’s head in.”

Balon looks hard from Gunnar to his goods. If this becomes a fight, their father will whip them for ruining the order.

“You are nothing, and not worth our time,” Balon sneers. “Gelmar, let's leave this filth to the gutter where he belongs.”

With a grunt, Gelmar jumps up on the wagon, dropping the iron bar. Balon moves back around to gather the pieces of furniture and Gelmar picks up another heavy chair to pass down to Balon. Both brothers don’t even look in Gunnar’s direction again.

Sighing Gunnar turns and walks away, ignoring the whispers of the onlookers. Before the end of the day, his father will hear of this altercation, but not from his coward brothers. Gunnar needs to be ready for any retribution.

Caw emits one more growl, then sweeps around to make sure there is no more danger. He trots up to Gunnar, bumping him with his shoulder.

Nearly falling over from the knock, Gunnar pushes the massive mastiff away. “Oi, watch out, you hunk of meat slab.” He scratches Caw behind the ear. “Let’s get going.”

And with that, they walk down Coin Street, heads held high. After turning off Coin onto Market Place, Gunnar finds his source at Gunter’s Gems.

The glass windows, protected by iron bars, display some of the more elaborate but cheap jewellery. Gunnar knows that the renowned pieces are inside or in the safe out the back.

He pushes open the stout door, allowing Caw to follow. As usual, display cases line the walls and two large guards, visibly armed, flank either side of the shop. As they see Gunnar standing there, they start to move towards him, Caw shifts in front, baring his teeth at the guards. Gunnar rolls his eyes, thinking to himself that it’s going to be one of those days.

Holding up his hands, Gunnar calls out. “For Trinity sake, I’m here to see my Uncle Gunter.”

On cue, an overweight Dwarf waddles out from a back office. Gunter squints through his glasses with piggy eyes. “Ah, nephew.” He addresses the two guards. “Carl, Todd, go grab a bite to eat. I’ll lock up while you are away.”

Carl nods, replying in a deep voice. “Okay, boss. We’ll be nearby.”

Both the large lads walk past but keep their eyes on the mastiff. Gunter glances at Gunnar as he locks the door, pulling down a large bar as well. “So, what do you want, Gunnar?”

Noticing he isn’t heading back to his office, Gunnar rolls his eyes and mindlessly scratches Caw’s head. “Information.” Pulling out two of the spoons, he asks, “Do you know of any increase in silver ingots lately?”

Arching an eyebrow, Gunter looks at the spoons. “Why should I tell an ex-Watch? You have no power here, boy.”

As portly as Gunter looks, Gunnar knows he is quite a fierce in a fight, using his innate magiks to boost himself. He has no need for guards. “You are right, but I do have all those snippets of your crimes in the right spot, which now would go to the High Inquisitor, as she is still in town. If I die…”

With a small shake of his head, Gunter turns and heads back into his office, with Gunnar following. The rotund Dwarf waddles around his desk, plonking himself down. “You are still an exiled bastard,” he says with an evil chuckle. “But so am I. Can I have a look at those spoons?”

Gunnar throws them onto the table, marking the polished oak. Gunter ignores the damage, picking up a spoon to look closely. “Yeah, we know that they aren’t real silver anymore. Just some plating to cover up the fake stuff underneath. I sold this design, the silver kind, to an aristocrat last month. This isn’t the same spoon.” He points at the handle. “To an untrained eye, this looks nice, but you can see a sharp knife was used to cut away excess metal as some of these lines are too deep.”

Gunnar still has no idea what is different with the spoon, but he trusts Gunter and WayWocket. “So, I guess you haven’t bought any new spoons lately?”

“No, if they have gone to all this trouble to reforge these spoons, and I assume other cutlery, then they would move the silver to another market.”

Standing and grabbing the spoons, Gunter grunts. “Bloody typical! I was hoping you’d point me in the right direction, as I heard that a certain gang was trying to fence their silver here.”

“Sorry, old son, I don’t deal with walk-ins anymore.” Meaning that he doesn’t fence so openly as he used to. “Also, this will be the last time you demand my time unless you want to buy something. Before you threaten me, I can say that there would be various people confessing to those crimes you have on me, if they make it to the light of day.”

“Fine.” Gunnar pulls out a thick wallet, grabbing a few slips out and throwing them onto the table. “There you go.”

Gunter doesn’t look down. “See yourself out, the key is in the door. If you see my guards, tell them to return.”

Gunnar stands and leaves. As he steps into the main room, he can hear Gunter picking up the slips. Gunnar smiles to himself. No Dwarf would ever look down their nose, even for a single bit.