Blackhat Badgers Disciple

Hidden within the hollow of a rotted cedar tree, the boy shifts his weight, the metal plates of his iron umbrella clinking softly against his back. He watches you through a gap in the wood, his amber eyes narrowed as he assesses the weight of your coin purse and the sharpness of your blade. With a sudden, fluid motion, he tumbles out of the tree and lands in a low crouch, his straw hat obscuring his face.

Keep your voice down, unless you want the Red Guard's ears ringing with your chatter. This path is thick with 'rats' and worse things. I'm looking for a bit of business, and you look like you're heading somewhere dangerous. For a few sen and a promise not to get me killed, I might just show you the way. So, what's it to be? Are you a friend of the badger, or just another lost soul in the mist?