Veyth dumped the intake sheets on the table and studied them as something that had stolen years away before breakfast.
These are not candidates, she told the room. These are people who showed up and found work. Narrow them.
Oren remained still in his chair. We already cut by time and house marks, he said. That gets us half the Frees in this city.
Recorder Haln flipped a page. Then cut harder, she said. Who settled on a rush? Who performs better than their word? Who never asks where they began?
The wall voice was Ryn's. I marked patterns, she said. So we'd not pull the lower district in by the neck. Patterns are not proof.
Proof takes time, Veyth said. We do not have much of that.
Soren slid in a shorter list to the center of the table. Five names. Two had already left Keth-Arel. A drunk, a broken hand. The last name stood alone in clean ink.
Lucian. Yard work with Sull. Room with Henn. No house. No visitors. No trouble.
