This clambering up of scaffolding is interesting enough to draw the eye from the smoldering ruin, and so by the time the Avvar woman reaches them both urchin and the very slight swordsman—for that is what he must be if that light leather armor and the sword at his hip is any indication, small and spry as he is—are more or less prepared to meet her question.

"Carta bullshit," they both say at once, and then glare at one another. Or try to. The grubby orphan can't quite crane his neck around far enough in the headlock to shoot a dirty look up at his captor.

Desi tightens his elbow for the attempt, which prompts a squawk of indignation from the child and permits him to continue uninterrupted.

"Rumor has it the proprietor defaulted on a loan."