On a windy, noisy, chaotic street somewhere in Lower City First District, three cloaked figures strode forward, pushing through the crowd and blending into the disorder:
Local "guides" grinned and loudly solicited customers while shooting malicious looks at their competitors; thieves and victims chased one another at heart-stopping distances, drawing complaints from passersby; idlers and vagrants sprawled in every direction along the filthy roadside, waiting for mercenary work to pay for their three meals that day;
Porters and peddlers, panting as they hauled their loads, numbly piled goods outside the shops, ignoring the shopkeepers' furious curses; carriage drivers impatiently whipped their inferior horses, scattering people blocking the way through the mud while shouting down scoundrels trying to sneak onto the back for a free ride; adventurers and mercenaries crowded around the rotten, blackened wooden noticeboard, searching through everything posted there, from official wanted notices to private commissions;
The Nether Night Priest stood on a wooden crate at the street corner, looking down at the passing crowd. Heartbroken yet helpless, he continued his sermon in a dry voice that no one cared to hear; mysterious figures who hid weapons beneath their clothes and kept their faces concealed appeared from time to time, radiating a dangerous "stay away from strangers" aura as they negotiated unspeakable deals; in the center of a crowd, two burly men who had fallen out in a bar beat each other bloody amid the cheers, refusing to stop;
Cunning and vicious peddlers habitually haggled with equally seasoned customers, each trying to squeeze the last bit of profit from the other; courtesans gathered at the entrances to filthy, dilapidated alleyways, striking seductive poses while unabashed moans came from the long-neglected second floors overhead;
A gambling ring hid in a corner by the roadside and ran a full-blown game, with