The Naturalist finishes his terrible coffee. "Was there anything else you'd like to know?"

"I think that'll do. Thanks!"

People are so helpful. Also he's kind of hungry. Perhaps if he wanders the streets he will find somewhere to get food, and if he's lucky maybe even somewhere to get some sort of money to buy the food with.

Well, wandering the streets is a good way to find new and interesting places! It's also a good way to get lost.

The street signs say he's in Spite when a man swaggers up to him. "Pretty nice clothes you're wearing, lad. You get lost on your way to Veilgarden?"

"I have no idea where that is!" he says cheerfully.

"Ah, a tourist," says the man, with a look of disgust. "Even better."

The Unfortunate Ruffian pulls out a dagger and points it at his prospective victim. "Hand over your coinpurse, and this won't get bloody."

"Don't have one."

This person does not seem very helpful.

"Oh, I doubt that," the Ruffian sneers. "I'll find it on my own."

The knife thrusts forward.

He sidesteps. Moving feels simultaneously weirdly smooth and weirdly clumsy, like he used to be very good at this and then got badly out of practice. But he's fast enough to make a grab for the knife despite his difficulties.

The Unfortunate Ruffian typically coasts on being the one with the knife. He's pretty easily disarmed.

So, let's see. You stab someone and then you take their money, is that how this goes?

That appears to be how it goes!

The Unfortunate Ruffian was carrying four purses of varying quality. One contains a quantity of jade discs, two contain some strong-smelling red metal minted into rings, and the final one has some glossy purple fragments which don't quite account for its weight.

...huh, how about that.

He leaves the Unfortunate Ruffian where he found him and finds somewhere a little quieter to sit down and investigate the incongruous purse.

The incongruous purse continues to be incongruous! It's a flat-bottomed leather construction with a snap on the top, and if he looks in closely enough then he might also notice that it isn't as deep as it looks from the outside. The leather must be rather thick.

Well how about that. And can he figure out how to get at the rest of the inside if he tries?

If he tries very hard and believes in himself, he may eventually notice that the "bottom" is actually a strip of leather glued to a small box. With some finagling he can remove the box, which is filled with coins and, nestled among the coins, a rather large diamond.

Well that's neat!

He puts it all back the way he found it and finds places in his clothes to hide all four purses and also the knife. Then he continues looking for somewhere to eat. At least his money problems are now solved! Maybe that fellow was helpful after all.

Well, if he heads west, he'll eventually come to an establishment called the Singing Mandrake. They serve various vintages of mushroom wine, mostly, but they've got assorted food products to go with the wine, too.

What an appropriately named establishment! He can get food there and then he will not be hungry.

Now, about a place to sleep...

There's a woman looking at him with concern as he exits the Singing Mandrake. Her face is lined with age, but her hair is vibrantly red. Perhaps she can help?

"Hello!" he says. "I'm looking for somewhere to stay the night, can you help me?"

Her eyes widen. "Oh- but don't you have a family to stay with?"

"Not that I know of!"

"Oh, how terrible - and you've outgrown the orphan-gangs, I suppose-"

She worries her lower lip. "I wouldn't want a young man on the streets at night, and the flophouses are terrible, they'll rob you blind. Why don't you come home with me, and I'll put you up in the spare bed? My latest lodger took an unexpected trip to the Tomb-Colonies."

"That sounds lovely!"

She brings him back to her home in the northeast of the city, chattering along the way. She's called the Softhearted Widow, apparently. She lost her husband and son both to the Unterzee - "Never go zailing, dearie, it's a terrible way to go." She's involved with half-a-dozen charities.

"But enough about me - what about you, dearie?"