Adventurers are the most unreliable people to rely upon. Undeniably essential to keep the lives of ordinary folk running smoothly, they're nevertheless can't be fully trusted. They won't be staying, won't rebuild the community after whatever crisis they avert, no matter how well-meaning they are. Tieve understands this as well as the next person, but she also understands that there's no help to be found among her actual coworkers and purported friends.

(Crimson might be willing, but when he's not ravenous, he does find the idea of killing quite unseemly. It would be unkind to ask him.)

When addressed, Tieve draws up short and looks a little uncertain, as if she was so caught up in what needed to be done she hadn't considered how to actually do it. She presses the backs of her knuckles against her lips for a moment, gathering her thoughts, nodding. Then shaking her head. "No, I...I need your help, I think."

"It's not on, you know, to take a clown's face like that. They register their makeup with a guild and everything. It's just adding insult to injury, killing him and then pretending to be him." She frowns. "Not to mention the others."

"Do you have any idea who sent them? Why they would target this of all places? And why drop the charade today, for you. I heard what he said. They could have killed a lot more people without you being here, if that was all they wanted."

"I've never seen mirrorkin here before. I want to know why now."