"I know what I've told and not much else." He said.

You weren't really surprised, considering that this place practically had no form of security other than criminal ones.

He doesn't speak much more on that subject, saying that all he knew was word of mouth and hearsay.

You then ask about who resides here, with some emphasis on that human family you just saw.

"It depends. Homeless, criminals, and the occasional bounty hunter, we are of most walks of life. Yet one commonality binds us— our predisposition to poverty. And that family of humans? They are a merely a quiet addition to the greater family this place absorbs. They keep to themselves for the most part, only going out to buy food and water. But if you want to know more about them?" He shrugged. "Ask them yourself. They might share what ails them."

"I just was planning on doing that." You said. "It was nice meeting you, Morris."

"Likewise, Savant Lord." He nods to you and bowed once more, then went back to warming his hands by the bonfire.

You were about to leave, but considered how there might've been something else you wanted to know about.

>"But before I leave..." (Write-in for any questions you have or things you want to tell him).
>No, there wasn't anything on your mind about it.

"Master," Mel said as you left the light of the bonfire, "I don't know if he's being entirely honest."

"He didn't sound like he was lying." Bertha said.

"Yeah, well, I don't think he was either." Mel continued as you all walked. "But I don't think he was telling the full truth either."

You thought about it. "Thanks, Mel. I'll keep that in mind."

You and your wives go back to the house where that human family was at. As skittish as they were before, they were now more open to meeting you after realizing you weren't gonna go until they met you.

Consisting of an average-looking man, his two plain-faced slave-wives, and three daughters, they proved to be a humble bunch. Good at making themselves look small and unassuming— not worth harming, overlooked by organized crime, and humble enough to be the subject of the occasional generous act.

You would've thought they were all Masterminds with how carefully they planned everything, were they not all part of the commoner class.

Asking them about what they felt and what they would like brought the answers you expected.

"More food an' water, the clean sort." Said the eldest slave wife, Iris. She had an accent like Cattleya's, but with a distinct dialect and Mel's high-pitched voice, practically worse sounding in every way.

"An' a cleaner place, at leas' without mold or rust." Said the other wife, Agnes. She spoke much like the other wife, who was apparently her sister.

"Less crime." Said the man, Thomas, in a gruff voice. He had a very average appearance, with the only thing worth noting being his tattered clothes.

The three of them answered with one or two sentence responses, never elaborating on anything unless you directly requested them to.