In this area, the healer Dale Swearengen has a place. Her healing shack bears the dragon flag of Donali Vace over the door, but it's old, tattered, & ignored. Two wounded men are lying in her shack, & she's standing over one of them with a bloody apron.

Rosiel "Dale Swearengen?"

She looks at you. "What's your problem?" she asks, tiredly.

"I want a word with you."

She says, "Come in. Are you injured or sick?"

"Neither. I'm in the market for a ship's healer."

She laughs. "Damn me. That's unexpected."

Rosiel feels utter apathy towards the wounded. Possibly a slight touch of contempt.

Rosiel asks, "Interested?"

"I don't know. Who are you? Why me?"

"I'm Rosiel Rhea. And you came highly recommended."

Her face gets paler, but she doesn't react otherwise. "Who recommended me?"

"My quartermaster. Belcorn."

"Belcorn? What in the world? I've never even been to his shop. How does he know me?"

"He's well connected."

She laughs, "But why me?"

"He thinks you have the skills and disposition to serve me well, and I'm inclined to trust him on that judgement until you show otherwise."

She sighs, "I'm fucked up is why he wants me, isn't it? He knows, doesn't he?"

Rosiel demands, "Explain." Rosiel's emotional response is mild annoyance.

She looks, warily, "I can heal real well, right? Like, better than most empaths, right? But I can't tell what people're feeling so well as most. Like, it's real vague."

Rosiel nods, having thought it was odd that he recommended an empath. This explains it, to some degree. "I see."

"I don't know what you could offer me that I'd want, anyway. I don't need money, I don't need protection. I just like to work, to heal. When I heal, I can sometimes get the real feeling, you know? The good feeling."

Rosiel "You've heard of the Ragged Dawn."

Her eyes narrow. "Yeah, so?"

"I need a crew with the talent and will to take her down."

She glances back at her patients, then back at you, "I ain't got much talent, but I've got enough will to spare on this. When do we leave?"

"We meet tomorrow morning, at Manwort's."

She nods, "I'll be there."

Rosiel turns and leaves.

Amarcus smiles, "That was easy."