As Briggi and Ernhild make their way towards the northern parts of town a man approaches them.
"You are the guys who dragged me to the guard when I was busy drinking myself to death, right?" Soldado opens the conversation. "My niece is sick. I don’t know what she has and neither does anyone in Trail’s End. She’s broken out all over in red pocks and can barely keep down food, or even the swill that good-for-nothing herbalist gave her. Her mother’s talking about going to the Bank of Abadar, but can’t afford to pay the prices their clerics would demand. Then I remembered how you and your friends handled yourselves during the riots, and how you aided me, and I figured you could help. A bunch of resourceful folk like you, I’d bet if you don’t already have a way to fix this, you must know who can. Surely you can’t just sit by while a child suffers, can you?"