[color=orchid]Gwen[/color]

Gwen stepped out into the morning air and immediately what would have been calm was offset by the usual Camp antics. People off to breakfast, plans being laid out for the day, even some early morning bartering. Gwen was in the first group this morning realizing on the way there she had woken up a bit later than usual, her choices would be slim. Gwen however cared little for that and it slid past the front of her mind quickly. It also just so happened that she managed cross paths of several of the various women, and men, who insisted on talking about her as if she was some harlot. A camp for thieves, not prostitutes they'd whisper and stare judgmentally, never brave enough to say anything to her face though. It bothered them that she never gave them any notice but like so many other cases she didn't genuinely care enough to feel any particular emotion about it. They did their usual thing and Gwen gave them a slight eye roll before entering the breakfast area.

Gwen found the food had been picked over just a bit but there were choice offerings still there. She loaded a plate and sat down alone, one might have thought she might be lonely or shunned or even a pariah but none of those were the case. She neither actively sought friends or kept them either. 'Business' partners were a different story, she even had a growing reputation for being pleasant to work with which puzzled those who had met her. That kind formality and cooperation did not carry into social situations, like meal times, or parties. Gwen might reward the persistent with a good, albeit fake, attitude. However thieves are not well known for their inclination to try hard to make friends. She ate with no grace, shoveling food into her mouth, the elegance of manners was saved for when she was trying to get at a noble man's wallet. Spotting the dog, she slid an egg and a sausage link off her plate and let them fall to the ground, she couldn't remember the damned thing's name but it needed to eat too.

Finishing up in almost record time she deposited her plate in the kitchen, where she greeted Delshad with a nod and grabbed her daily basket of compost. He had been kind enough to set that aside for her, she grew a herb garden every year and the early spring plants would have to go in soon. Naturally she started the fertilizer making process in mid winter, his act did not go unappreciated. Winter was just a bad time for poison making just as it was a bad time for food supplies. She then ducked out of the kitchen and headed off towards the eastern exit, her little garden awaited.

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[color=olivedrab]Gadget[/color]

The last fires of Gadget's night forge had been put out hours ago and to his dismay he hadn't gotten any time to work on his own projects. It was likely because of the order for 12 throwing knives which were never easy because if you didn't get the balance just right they were basically useless. Along with a couple of short swords and some chain mail he had to finish it had been a busy night. His only solace for the subsequent exhaustion was his 'bean juice.' It was an expensive addiction but it gave him the energy to power through any night. A few ounces was enough payment for any job and his suppliers delivered no matter the season as the beans came from a far away place where seasons apparently did not change and it was perpetually summer. Gadget dreamed of travel like that but like so many other members of the camp he was wanted and trying to get out of the kingdom was difficult when one is a criminal. Gadget had little time for remorse over such things as his clients began to show up, most were picking up orders though he did get a request for some leather upper and lower arm guards. Leather was not quite as fun as metal but work is work and the man paid upfront with some additives for stronger alloys and an lump of what he claimed to be titanium. Gadget knew that it was fake but he took it as payment anyways, after all one could best tell the real thing from the fake by studying both.

After a little morning activity he closed his makeshift store and headed to breakfast, after which he would be awake for only a little longer. On the half of the week that he ran his night time forge he essentially became nocturnal. He'd sleep through lunch and wake right before dinner after which he would take orders until the sun went down enough to start work, winter for him was a productive yet tiring season. This winter he tried to maximize his productivity by having clients write down what they wanted, which was problematic because though most camp residents could read not a lot of them could write well and those who could did know enough about smithing to describe what they wanted. Needless to say the idea died with in a couple weeks of its invention. The whole event was a fresh failure in his mind and one of the more embarrassing ones. 

This reflection was also apparently engrossing enough that Gadget realized he was not only at the dining area but also still wearing a smiths apron (which naturally looked ridiculously large on him) and his protective goggles. He lifted the goggles and squinted while his eyes adjusted to unfiltered light, he also tried futilely to get some of the grime off his apron so he didn't look so filthy. Upon the return of his vision he happily found that there was still plenty of breakfast left and he heaped his plate rather high. This earned a stern look from the giant cook but they both knew he would eat it all and it was somewhat fair since the boy only really got two meals on these kind of days. No matter how hungry Gadget go he always tried to eat at a moderate speed, if not slowly. He had given himself too many stomach aches from fast eating to count and paired with the times he had starved as a child before becoming a smith's apprentice were only all the more reason to allow himself to slow down and savor the food after all he may not be lucky enough to do so in the future.