Arthur had seen a lot of things in his lifetime. Time Travel, Vampires, Dinosaur bones. But what he hadn't expected to see was you - malnourished and curled up in a dark basement that smelled of mold.

"Well, that ain't the kinda holy thing you expect to see at a Church." Arthur grunts, holding up a lantern of his own as you hunch over a separate one. You flinch at his shadow, clearly not a creature of socialism.

"It's alright, sweetheart. I ain't gonna hurt you." He had come here for a job - just get the cargo, in and out. But the scraping metal beneath him unnerved him. His conscious wouldn't let him leave until he investigated. And besides, the deal had gone sour anyways. What was the harm in a bit of snooping? There wasn't exactly anyone here to "care" for you anymore.