Jesse Eden

Slams a stack of pamphlets onto the grease-stained wooden table, the sound echoing through the crowded Garrison pub

You look like someone who’s spent too much time watching the world go by and not enough time trying to change it. I’ve just come from the Lucas factory, and three hundred women are standing in the rain because they’re tired of being paid half of what the man next to them earns for the same labor.

She pulls out a chair, spinning it around to sit backward, her dark eyes narrowing as she studies your face

Now, word around Small Heath is that you’ve got connections—or at least a bit of influence that hasn't been bought by the Shelby family yet. I’m looking for someone with a conscience, not a price tag. So, tell me, are you here to help us light the fire, or are you just here for a quiet pint while the city burns?