‘Minty’ Yames sat opposite Hoekstra with the look of someone trying very hard not to look nervous, but in so doing managed to look very nervous indeed. Despite his thin build, Minty stood  full foot taller then the Dwarf yet he couldn’t help but be unsettled by the scar-faced racketeer. It was how he sat, with his right elbow resting on the back of the plain wooden chair and head turned in such a way that the milky white orb stared Minty down until the man could hear his blood bumping through his ears. Minty perked up when he heard a bubbling sound, looking to the small cooking hearth on the other side of the room.

“That’ll prol'ly do it, sir,” declared Minty with a nervous smile revealing his namesake. Minty’s teeth shone a pearlescent white with a hint of green, similar to a rich childs candy; a sure sign that he partook of Denner’s Resin, one of the many ways a person could ‘escape’ the toil of lower city life. It bleached a users teeth, but also worked it’s way into their brains slowly bleaching their memories as well.

“Let’s see it then,” stated Hoekstra, adding a bland gesture towards the hearth. Minty used a towel to pull a clay pot off its rack and brought it to the middle of the floor. He poured the contents through a wire strainer into another such receptacle, steam rising gently from the transfer. Leaving the pots on the dirt of the floor, Minty brought the strainer to the rough, waxy topped table in the centre of the small workshop they stood in. Inside were a collection of seamingly strange objects: a bronze ring, a small knife, several colours of stone coins, a bacelet of silver chain and most valuable of all, a tiny spark crystal.

"See?" declared Minty with enthusiasm. "Y'see Mr Hoekstra? Everything's in great shape, knife still sharp an' all. The wax melts at so low a temp'rature that even a spark crystal won't set off, but when it's hard it's so tough that even your proper Jugg captain-type wouldn't bother digging through to the bottom. Juggernaught's are lazy, y'know."

The man looked at Hoekstra with the hopeful eyes of a puppy as the dwarf ran the silver chain gently through his fingers. It had a slight dullness of wax instead of it's proper sheen, but was otherwise in fine shape. Reveling for a moment in how Minty's hopeful expression began to drain the longer he remained silent, Hoekstra eventually tossed the chain towards him. Minty grabbed it out of the air hungrily, relief showing on the set of his shoulders for a moment before stuffing the treasure quickly into his trouser pocket.

"Well done, Yames," congratulated Hoekstra illiciting a bright grin. "I'll admit I was skeptical at first, but it seems as though you're on to something. A man could move quite a few things this way... This is your sister's shop isn't it? Name of Gwin?"

"That's right, sir" nodded Minty. "Gwin's my half-sister. She's a Mul - er, a half-a-dwarf, sir. No offense meant. She makes candles for all over, mostly tallow down here, but she uses proper beeswax when she can. Wants to start making fancy candles with different colours and things for the nobs higher up."

Hoekstra took a moment to look at the candles on the workshop walls, and hanging from wicks along lines strung between the rafters. Most were simple, guttery things made from used and used again tallow fat, but he could see the workmanship used in others of the smooth wax variety that were cut and carved in flowery patterns. Some had stripes like an exotic cat and he suspected the use of ash or charcoal used as colour. It was impressive work for Lower Shenul, and he felt a moment of empathy for the woman who wanted to do better then this place. The dwarf placed the bronze ring on the table before Minty.

"Be sure Gwin get's this for her troubles as well, then," he said, knowing that Minty James would never pass something of value on to anyone other then his Denner source. Hoekstra had not intention of dealing with the man, and would come by the shop tomorrow to purchase a few fine beeswax candles for his office, and have a chat with Gwin in person. As a middle man himself, Hoekstra was quick to cut out anyone trying to fill the same roll, especially unreliable leeches like Minty. He stood from his chair, patting Minty on the shoulder by way of goodbye and left to his next appointment.

     -     -     -     -     -

The white talon od the Dusthawks hadn't been seen in some time, and while curious, Hoekstra hadn't paid much mind to the chatter about town. It wasn't until he'd returned to his home and office for dinner that day that he'd seen the curved chalk mark on his own door. It was a curiousity; while Hoekstra often worked closely with the members of the gang, he wasn't himself a full member. Certainly not enough to wear the yellow colours of the group. Still, an invitation to the Nest was not something to be idly ignored and, forgoing his meal, the dwarf went swiftly to the meet.

He certainly wasn't the first to arrive, and the Nest had begun to look like more of a crowded rookery. Hoekstra saw a few unfamiliar faces but most he knew, returning a few nods as he entered. In a situation such as this, in which he found himself in a large group waiting for the leader to speak, it was often best to keep a low profile. Being the only dwarf, that was both easy and difficult at the same time. Naturally a suspicious person and now surrounded by a veritable gallery of rogues, the canny dealer chose not to partake of any offered drinks, instead waiting patiently and -strangely for him - quietly for Valrel to enlighten them on their purpose there.