Z'phir, realizing that he doesn't need it to take care of himself, leaves the leather tie on his scabbard holding his sword securely in place. The locals may consider him overconfident, but so few who aren't T'skrang ever consider the tail a viable weapon, and they would not expect the flying death that Z'phir would bring were they foolish enough to attack.

Z'phir walks with the group, keeping aware of his purse lest someone try to relieve him of its weight.

First, Z'phir addresses the T'skrang woman and her body guards.
[Throalic]"We're looking for someone with stylish boots and a purple scarf. I hope your memory is good enough to help us find him."

Z'phir takes a silver piece out of his purse without revealing all its contents.

[Throalic]"and it appears I could do with a pie as well."

setting the silver piece down on the table, but not taking one of the pies.

The t'skrang slides the silver piece across to her side of the counter and gives him a blank look, then she turns to one of her ork guards,

"you remember that human with the snake skin boots, what was his name again, Kuper? Didn't he pass this way recently?"

"Oh I remember," she tells the ork, "he headed east towards Jerzen Road..."

"Never liked him."

She looks back to Z'Phir, "I'm sorry dear, enjoyed your pie did you? I see it's all gone."

Atrii wanders up to the statue of Quarique Oathstone, thinking it a shame to see a rightful lord shown such little respect. Puppet or not, the people's contempt for him leaves the young wizard with a tinge of sadness.

He turns to watch Z'phir's exchange, then circles the statue to keep an eye on the entire roundabout.

One of the dwarf children comes up to you, "I wanna be an adept," she says, all big eyes and dirty face.

Gavrael hung back with Atrii near the statue. He nodded and grunted back at Atrii's comments while sizing up the demon. It would be difficult to reach with those two orks protecting it. Gavrael scowled as Z'Phir spoke to it. When the little girl came up, Gavrael shifted from a scowl to a quizzical eyebrow. With a heavy sigh, he breaks the news to the girl. "You don't choose to become an adept, the magic chooses you. Now, maybe it has chosen you, and you just weren't listening."

Atrii notices, that while the girl seems sincere in her desire to become an adept, she is also providing a distraction while her brother sizes the group up to pick their pockets.

Nobody else seems to have spotted the boy moving in.

Atrii lifts a knuckle slightly, allowing the gleaming jewel in his staff to shed its light over the boy. He makes eye contact with the thief and shakes his head discouragingly.

The dwarf boy gives Atrii a shameless stare in return and shrugs. He walks over,

"can't blame a boy for trying," he says to the human in a conspiratorial whisper.

Meanwhile his sister continues her interaction with Gavrael, "no, I will be an adept, soon as someone initiates me to let the magic out, I'll grab it and never let go."

Z'Phir glances in the indicated direction and sees more of the same. Rubble, ramshackle buildings and refuse. Still it is a place to start.

Speaking in Throalic, Gavrael engages the little girl. "Alright Little One, let us see what magics are on your side. Your adept powers have allowed you to see that horror over there for what it is. Clearly it has control over those two orks, but it is also poisoning your town with that insidious concoction. How would you deal with this threat?"

The girl plays along, thinking a moment, and then says, "it's a trick question,
depends what kind of adept I am, see. Do I smash or trick, or puzzle it out."

"Poisoned food is sometimes worse than no food, but if the poison is survivable then no food will leave you dead while the poison food leaves you sick."

Her brother, having abandoned his attempt to pick pocket, stands looking at Atrii listening to his sister with a weary expression.

"She's a good distraction, but she does go on!" he whispers