Sounds like I need to clarify Grant's backstory. I slid a few jokes into the Recruitment thread about his profession, but everyone seems to have a radically different impression than I meant to give.
Grant is a young man who used to daydream about exploring the Roughs and traveling the Basin. He would make off with his father's broadsheets and read the articles about far away places. Someday,
he would tell himself, I'll be a traveling reporter and see the world and have amazing adventures.
He mentioned his dreams of working for the broadsheets to his parents, and they encouraged him to study hard in grammar classes. They helped him get a place with the local broadsheet office and everything else a supportive parent could do.
The placement wasn't as a roaming reporter. Nor was it as a journalist. Grant suspects that his parents landed him in a cubicle on purpose. His mother never had approved of "steel-running" around the neighborhood during his grammar school years. Instead of amazing sights and revelatory journalism, Grant has a dusty, paper-strewn desk. A couple of kerosene lamps keep him company during the long hours of crossing t's and dotting i's (Turns out that most of those glorified journalists can barely spell).
After a few years of soul-crushing office work, Grant meets Red [or whomever] at a cafe. Their first conversation lights Grant's pewter [metaphor only
], and they start finding some after-hours "adventures" of their own. Grant proves to be an able scrapper, and a fine shot to boot.
So, no glorious leader type here, and not running or masterminding anything. Certainly Grant knows a great deal of trivia from providing fair hand copies of incoming articles, but he is only a couple steps above the interns in terms of power. Grant is not a journalist, and I'm actually tempted to make that his Tragedy (he has had a sheltered life thus far, after all). Being a nobody turned vigilante hero amuses me; being important does not.
Sorry to burst your bubbles.