Tap-Tap-Tap.  The soft note might have been loss on most, but two hyper alert constructions of magic who had purposefully put out the call for arms?  Unlikely.  Very unlikely, actually, since the man whose cane beat the staccato on the city's street was making no effort to hide himself.  With that high collared coat, hood left down, he was unremarkably human in a city where Lich walk freely, and its guardians were things of straw and magic.  The pouch at his side, stuffed with reagents gave away his craft, though his dress lacked the ostentatious decorations one would expect of a wizard.  In fact, of his entire bearing and possessions, three things really stood out as promising.<br/><br/>One was that lingering scent of roses and perfume, and the faintest hint of death that lingers in his clothes.  Secondly was the marking upon his breasts, a crow clutching rose petals in its talons, a symbol of the House of the Peaceful Rest.  Finally, that hard stare that did not relent even upon eye contact as he approached the experienced pair at his uneven pace.  The cane was not, clearly, for show.<br/><br/>"Gentlemen."<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>