The alley is so dark that even your sensitive eyes take a moment to adjust. The man standing in front of the stained bricks is a few years older than you, with a dark, serious face and short black hair. He's dressed in tattered but elegant clothes: a black frock coat with mismatched buttons, polished black boots, and a dark, frayed v-neck sweater. Leather gloves protrude from the breast pocket of his coat; the young man has the air of a scholar, especially with the oversized leather book clutched in his hand, but his knuckles are criss-crossed with pale scars.
Though he looks dangerous, he makes no move to attack.
"My name is Elton Dey," he says. "Ms. Clear told me you had come."
I want answers, even if I have to be pushy. "I know about Broad Brook. I need to know what happened here."
I think this guy is one of us, so I should keep this formal. "I am Cale Falck X of Clay's pack in Northern New York. A Bane attacked us and I tracked it here."
I need to focus on helping Clay. "A friend of mine has fallen ill, and I think you might be able to help."
I glance at the tome. "You're a scholar. What are you working on?"
I don't expect much from this guy, but then again, I am broke. "You got ten bucks?"
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