3-8: Half-Mad Mongrel

Mongrel is an impressive city for something cobbled together by scrappy fugitives. Frankly it's an impressive city by any standard. There's a wide range of shops, a Shinobi Thieves tower, even a faction HQ that I suppose serves as the seat of whatever form of government they have here. The guards and the controlling faction aren't Shinobi Thieves despite the guards having shinobi in their name; their faction is simply listed as Mongrel. It's a completely independent city.
The gang starts on down the thoroughfare, taking in the sights and sounds. Something odd sticks out: Amid the ambient chatter, they think they hear someone... beeping?
Beep: Beep
Beep: Beep
Ninja Guard: Disruptive asshat
Beep: ...
Jam turns to find the source of the noise and finds a scrawny worker drone approaching them.

Beep: Beep!
Jam: Uhh... Hi Beep...
Beep: ...
Beep: ...how... how do you know my name?
Jam: You just said “beep” for no reason, so I thought maybe you were introducing yourself
Beep: ...You must be some kind of genius then?
Jam: Err... are you taking the piss?
Beep: Beep
Jam: I think you are!
Beep: [he swallows nervously] Sir, I would never steal your piss...
Jam: What?
Beep: Sorry, I beep when I'm nervous.
Jam: That's a bit weird
Beep: They exiled me from the Hive
Jam: Just because you keep saying “beep”?
Beep: I am defective. Not good for the Hive.
Beep: But Beep doesn't give up! Beep is strong!
Beep: Since I left the Hive I can feel my mind changing, the way I think, I feel free, having thoughts I never had before. I want freedom, but everywhere I go things try to kill me or chase me.
Beep: Beep tires of running. Time to stab the things that chase me.
Jam: *sigh* Another weak nobody. How much money do you want?
Beep: Money? I don't know what that means.
Jam: Welcome to the team!
Beep: Beep!

Those are in fact ones across the board; read 'em and beep. This funky little worker drone will need some training and some gear if he's going to going to make it out of Mongrel.
On that note, the gang now has at least one of each of the three kinds of hiver: Jam the soldier, Silvershade the prince, and Beep the worker. Workers are overall the most fragile of the three and the most fragile of all playable characters; they have only 75 HP in each body part, excepting their head which has 125. One could argue princes are more fragile with 80s across the board making for a lower total, but people don't need to lose all their HP across all their body parts to die. They just need to lose one vital body part and it's the chest, not the head, that's the part most often hit.
Hive worker drones get xp gain bonuses to Athletics, Dexterity, Engineering, Farming, Labouring, Stealth, Thievery, Toughness, and Turrets. They take penalties to Cooking, Science, and Strength. As per the character creator:
Expendable workers born to labour for the good of their Hive, they know only obedience and value service to the Hive above any personal benefits, safety or comfort. If separated from the controlling influence of the Hive they usually die, but in rare cases become free individuals. Bewildered by their newfound freedom and loss of a predetermined purpose they wander lost and seek meaning, but usually just find death or exploitation.
Given his fragility, the smart thing to do would be to give Beep a crossbow to keep him out of the fray, make him a thief that doesn't fight, or keep him at home. That's not what Beep wants, though. Beep says he wants to stab the things that chase him? He'll get to. He will be a melee fighter of some sort and I will do my utmost to keep him alive while he becomes strong.
With Beep in tow, the gang starts making the rounds through the shops. First up is the weapons shop. Riddly's had her topper katana since before joined and while it's a good weapon she's become quite skilled with, she'd like to branch out. She's taken on more of a heavy fighter role within the gang, a little at odds with a pure cutting weapon like a katana. Heavy armour like hers hinders intricate bladework; the mercenary plate she wears only lets her use 80% of her Dexterity. As such, she'd prefer a weapon that uses a combination of Dexterity and raw Strength.

Combat Cleaver
A sword-cleaver hybrid, it's lighter and more suited to normal combat.
Cleavers are good if you want to rely on Strength, more wieldy than heavy weapons and deadlier than blunt weapons. It'll be vastly better than the topper against armoured enemies, trading the 15% armour penetration penalty for a 30% bonus and trading some cutting damage for blunt, less resisted by metal armour. Riddly buys a Mk III-grade combat cleaver from the shop, a very high grade indeed, at the whopping price of 16,566 Cats. While spending that much makes me a little green around the gills just on principle, what're all those Cats for if not sick gear?
Beep gets the hand-me-down katana. Flitting from shop to shop, the gang hears another strange sound coming from one of the bars.

Mongrel crazy: Wreee.... wreeee....
Mongrel crazy: Wreeee....
Outlaw: Don't mind him, he lost his mind long ago...
Outlaw: Driven crazy by the fog, poor guy. Who knows what he's been through out there in the Deathyards...
This hive soldier is making a similar sound to the fogmen. Keys finds herself wondering: Do regular hivers turn into fogmen? They must, otherwise how would fogmen be made? Is it something in the fog that turns hivers after enough exposure? Surely it couldn't be that—if it was just fog exposure, people around here would have seen hivers turn. They probably would have said something to Jam and Silvershade when the gang rolled in.
Awfully curious and a little alarmed, Keys strikes up a conversation with the third hiver sitting at the table. Could be they know something.

Zenzobik: Being stuck in this godforsaken place, it's enough to drive you stir crazy... take a seat, roamer. You're gonna be here a while.
Keys: What do you mean?
Zenzobik: The Deathyards, drifter, you'd have to be out of your mind to set foot in those cursed valleys. I came here to escape prison... But turns out, this is just prison in another guise, more hellish than the last.
Keys: How about you escape here, with me?
Zenzobik: What are you crazy!? No one goes into the fog and comes out alive, only the lucky make it to Mongrel... don't tempt fate, newbie.
Keys: Well, I came here and I'll leave here...
Zenzobik: Nobody leaves Mongrel, roamer...
It's starting to sound like the people here don't know any more about the fogmen than the gang does. They don't even talk about them, just the fog itself. Keys is left to speculate. She excuses herself from the three hivers' company and wanders over to the other side of the bar; Jam has joined a bunch of humans at a table there and is already chatting away, social butterfly that they are.

Shryke: Stranded in this dead end town and for what? Some puffed up tech hunter rumour of AI cores and CPU units? Well, goodbye blue skies, goodbye sunlight, so long desert breeze. Now there's the sounds of the fog to listen to instead. Listen to that and you've got yourself a few sleepless nights... And don't even get me started on food! How much longer are the reserves gonna last on this marooned island, eh? Ugh...
Shryke: Anyway, looks like you're one of us now, eh? Welcome to the party! If you don't wanna be a party pooper, don't talk about the fog... or what's in it for that matter. The screeches and groans are enough of a reminder already...
Jam: How long have you been here?
Shryke: Too long. Don't tend to keep track of the days in this place but I'd say a year or so now. Long enough to start feeling the Mongrel crazy at least.
Jam: Why not leave?
Shryke: Oh, I want to, believe me. But every single time I pluck up the courage, my dear old brother's tortured screams echo in my mind. And that's when I remember that perhaps a lack of sunlight and the odd back-pain grumble from Crumblejon isn't such a bad thing after all. Not compared to my fate that lurks in the fogs... I mean sure, it's easy to throw out suggestions, captain obvious, but talking about it is much easier than doing it...
Jam: How about you leave with me?
Shryke: Well... you've got a nice sized crowd following you... and you all made it here in one piece, that's something. But is it enough I wonder...
Shryke: [She grows silent as she fidgets with the scar on her hand]
Shryke: Ahh, to the abyss with it. I might never get another chance....
Shryke: Drag me if you have to. Don't let me bail on this.
Oh, Jam will carry her if necessary. That was something I checked before deciding to send the gang to Mongrel: I wanted to be sure at least some of my characters were strong enough carry a friend on their shoulders and still outrun fogmen. Just in case.
Jam is always thrilled to make new friends and considers asking the other two people at the table if they'd like to join as well, but the gang is already getting pretty numerous for people who lack a reliable food source. Maybe another time. They're happy as is—they're looking forward to spending time with Beep and Shryke.

While Shryke has a few points in a wide variety of stats, nearly everything still being in single digits means she's not really that much stronger than Beep. Her starting equipment isn't going to do a whole lot to protect her either. Her polearm is of usable quality but her leather armour and boots are both Shoddy-grade and as such offer little protection in exchange for the stat penalties they bestow. She and Beep will both be training and buying new equipment before it'll be safe for them to leave Mongrel.