Saoirse wavered where she stood, illuminated by the oil lamp, shocked to stillness by the appearance of Chao's weapons. She nodded a silent response to the calmed wizard -- [i]Chama[/i], he'd been called -- and while quiet stretched once again in the flickering cobbled street, she mentally recited the names being thrown among them. [i]Dali. Chao. Chama.[/i]

The yet-unnamed Grumbler was closer now -- close enough for Saoirse to notice the glint of an automaton strapped to his broad back. Her interest piqued, and for a moment her attention was thus distracted from the rapid speculation on the eye and the coin. (Dead fathers? Old stories? The Painted Lady? The Woad? What could any of that have to do with [i]her?[/i]) She raised the lamp higher, to better illuminate the dim eyes of the limp automaton and the determined face of the Grumbler, whose focus was entirely on the mouth of the Mourning Quarter. A coin flashed in his meaty hand.

[color=yellow]"Hello?"[/color] she addressed the Grumbler, even as she stepped aside to let him pass. [color=yellow]"Are you --?"[/color] She was cut off by the echo of a blood-curdling scream issuing out of the darkness of the crypt. Saoirse swung the light in the direction of the sound, her blood frozen and breath stopped, waiting for another noise to prove that whoever had made that screech still lived. [i]Please be alive.[/i]

[color=yellow]"Chao?!"[/color] she called shakily behind her, even as she rushed after the Grumbler's clanking automaton with her light, toward the Mourning Quarter. She dropped the coin into her pocket and instead withdrew her trusty knife. [color=yellow]"Gonna need those weapons, buddy."[/color] Saoirse made very sure to keep the Grumbler between herself and whatever was down that winding staircase, the lamp extended to illuminate his path.

She was scared. These coins could very well be a symbol of their deaths, and five coffins lay open at the bottom of those stairs. No amount of treasure and fortune was worth her life -- but maybe it was a long-latent motherly instinct that drove her forward anyway, knife in-hand, to find and rescue someone surely in need. She wasn't a fighter, but she was resourceful, and only Chao could best her speed. No, this was too much to run away from. Too much to leave alone.