Brea's breath caught in her throat. Now<em>this</em>was something she bet Scar had not intended to give her. He was normally a generous customer, but this was beyond reasonable expectations. Her heart started thumping as she examined the gemstone. It could be worth a<em>fortune</em>!<br/><br/>However, she was no expert, and canny enough to recognise that particular limitation. What she needed to do, was find someone who knew. She thought about all the people she knew, who could possibly tell her more. As she pondered, the image of a snowy-bearded old geezer with many missing teeth (probably from testing coins the hard way) and a lecherous glint in his rheumy eyes, seated among scrolls and parchments, slipped into her mind. Yes, Marcheron would know. And she just had to find him<em>now</em>, even if he lived all the way across town.<br/><br/>No time like the present, she decided as she began to change into a darker suit. It had no skirt, just a bodice and leggings, a dark dirty brown. Perfect for a night jaunt. Stowing away the coins safely, she then opened the window and looked out. No one around. Excellent. She slipped the gemstone into a compartment just under her bodice, and then climbed out the window.