"I imagine that's a wise course of action," I said, inspecting the assembled group with muted consternation. We had donned what costumes we could and went over our roles again and again, but despite the months since our first encounter and the weeks en route to Kamden and Havenos, any other inquisitor would consider this a ragtag group at best. Retroactively, I wished we had been given more time on Pacitus, but selfishly I had gotten restless. It was good to be back in the field, even if it was potentially a short jaunt to find my missing agent and subdue a low-life named Nagrip. 

I led the group from the central road down a splinter street of mudbrick, heading towards a trading shed with the look of a run-down chalet. Pelts and fetishes hung over a wooden marquee, swaying in the light wind as pioneers looking for game or to make a name for themselves conversed in low-gothic, sporting autoguns and thick-bladed knives at their hips. A few of them looked our way as we approached. I admit it was hard not to notice us, as I was in the company of three attractive woman and a giant in armor. I, for all my supposed charm, could better fit in I had learned. I sported a coarse jacket and a wide brimmed hat in the fashion of game hunters, my autogun at my hip and a combat shotgun at my back, sawed short to conceal its military grade fittings with a conventional gun-case. 

We stopped at the front, if one could call it that, and I motioned for Salencia to stay there, glancing at Lucius who wouldn't be able to fit through the door unless he tore the roof apart. "Keep the good woman company. Make sure these fine gentlemen don't get any ideas." I remarked at the adventurer's expense, and winked at Salencia. She took my meaning, though I could tell she likely wondered why Emmaline wasn't staying out here to keep watch on the occasionally murderous post-human, but I needed her inside in case her psychic powers would be of use to gather information. Clara would be our back up. 

The door creaked open, banging the wall with the rattling of a closed shutter. Tables with set collections of knives, bullets, energy packs, recoil dampeners, enhanced magazine capacitors, and vox-casters were laid over grox skins and ambull carapaces as phylodar teeth hung from the ceiling, glowing ivory in the lantern light. Three men in rough leathers and flack jackets stood in the corner, one holding a long gun as the other appreciated the smithing of the weapon. Another clung to a bio-scanner as if it were an STC. An older man with a jaw made of metal, bio-mechanically connected to the joint ligaments of his jaw, walked out of the back with a tray with three bottles of rotgut booze. 

All four turned when I entered with Clara and Emmaline, the boisterous chattering coming to a stop. I tipped my hat to the proprietor, approaching him with my heavy boots. Emmaline followed suit as Clara hung back, the brunette's eyes glancing back and forth to ascertain any hidden defenses, though her eyes caught sight of the equipment laid out and she eyeballed her fair share of the military grade equipment. 

"Excuse me," I asked the trader as he set the tray of booze down for the previous customers and approached. He was thin, with eyes that spoke of either kindness or meekness. 

"What can I do for you, sir? Madam." He gave Emmaline a nod of his slowly revealing bald pate, fixing his short-brimmed bush hat to cover up the spots once again.  

"Know where we can find any Carnodon in these parts?" I asked, leaning against a table and setting a hand to rest on my belt, the other idly lounging atop the holster of my weapon. He looked somewhat surprised, but quickly realigned his stance again. 

"Carnodon? That's some big game, sir. Yes, yes uh, I remembering hearing about some sightings due east of here, near the Jroakan Valley. Seems there've been some attacks lately, too." 

"They were confirmed Carnodon attacks?" I asked, raising an eyebrow. Emmaline tilted her head, looking inquisitive, highly interested in the old timer and what he had to say. She knew how to play her part, at least. 

"Well, just what I hear. There have been sightings of them over in those parts most recently." He said, glancing from my penetrating gaze to Emmaline's sparkling blues. "As for the attacks, I just know a few people haven't come back from the valley and the locals are smart enough not to go after us folk. If it's big, green, and tastes good, it's a grox, catch my meaning?" 

"Who's gone missing? Off-worlders like us?" 

"Is this an omni-scope?" Clara asked from behind us. I turned and the captain of my guard, one to whom I entrusted my life, was holding up a weapon attachment and looking at it as hungrily as Emmaline might gaze at a bowl of icecream. 

"Why, yes it is!" The tradesman declared proudly. 

"How did you get this?" She asked, intrigued. 

"You'd be surprised what desperate men sell when they got nothing else. We get all kinds here, madam. Looking to purchase?" 

I cleared my throat.