"Why? You lookin' fer to kill one of us?" The bartender asked. Several other sailors stared the strangers down, looking visibly angry.

---

Max had shadowed Tyrann. He felt it was time to make himself noticed. He stepped forward and put his hand on Tyrann's shoulder. "We didn't mean to cause any trouble. We were just playing uuhh.... a game with my younger sister. She dresses in black and climbs a lot of things." He said faking a believable laugh. He then turned Tyrann around and shoved him out the door.

---

"But we were not playing a game, we are conducting a very important- hey, what are you doing-" Tyrann replied, while being shoved out of the inn. "Why are you doing that? The man seemed nice."

---

"Yes very nice... Nice enough to beat you upside the head!" He said

---

Raiso had begun to head towards Ken's shop, running out of ideas. The places he had visited thus far had been extremely uninformative, and had yielded no valuable information on the whereabouts of the assassins. As he opened the door to the morticians shop and greeted the owner, Raiso thought it best to ask Ken if he knew anything. "Actually..." He stopped, a new plan forming in his mind. "Ken, sir? If one were looking for information on, say, particular people and their whereabouts, where would they go?"

---

"Well, I suppose you could head to the slums. It's pretty dangerous, but you could find some neat things there." Ken replied, looking up from Ashleen's dad's body. "I wouldn't wear the tunic, though. Or look weak. Or breathe wrong."

---

Realizing that he had wasted both their time, Tyrann's mood soured. "So then... where do we go next? Is there..." he paused, thinking "Everyone seems quite afraid of the assassin-ninjas. But... who would not be... that someone would need to be a foreigner, but still have lived in the city for some time, someone who would profit from keeping an open ear..." Looking straight at Max, Tyrann concluded "The dwarf-merchant. You know, the one with all those strange gadgets, I doubt he gets them all just from his own work, he must have different contacts. And his loyalty only belongs to his own kind and money. We could try asking him, although it would probably not be cheap."

---

"The slums, eh? Alright, I'll see what I can find. Thanks for your help!" Raiso then began to make his way back to the academy to prepare himself. 'The others will be fine for the moment, I'm sure,' he thought to himself as he made his way to his quarters. 'These slums are no different than what I lived through several years ago; I can handle this quite easily on my own.' Upon reaching his room, Raiso changed from the common uniform of the academy to the worn, sleeveless jacket and sack cloth pants he had worn before his days in these halls. Tightening his armwraps and adjusting his headband, Raiso made his way back down to the streets of the town, and into the depths of the city's slums.

---

The city slums were a smelly place, browned with filth and rot. Various people, dressed in rags and knives, stood around the area.

---

Rasio kept a stoic expression as he walked through the gloomy streets, keeping an eye out for anyone who seemed untrustworthy... which seemed to be essentially everyone. Deciding that he had to start somewhere, he walked over to one of the people in rags. "Pardon me," he began, keeping his tone serious as he did. " Who do I see if I'm lookin' for someone around here?"

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