Praven. Cramped, tiny and with an ungodly vendetta against the sun, considering how hard they worked to block it out by making their streets barely wide enough for two people to pass each other. Ögei supposed it was fortunate most of the locals were on foot, enabling Aduu and herself to reach their destination easily. Not that she had much of a destination, of course. The whole thing about a merc band recruiting was getting more vague by the hour as Ögei wandered about the city, with leads going cold one after another.<br/><br/>The city was probably fairly used to foreigners; at least the stares directed Ögei's way were far less constant than the easterner would've expected. At least the Khergit tribes and Swadia weren't butting heads over some stick in the dirt at this time, allowing the non-Khergit, but still similar-looking woman to go about her business. Usually, anyway; she'd raked up a kill count of four so far in the city, but they were all of the bandit type, rather than any particular dislike for Khergit.<br/><br/>Regardless, Ögei was now resorting to bar-hopping. Aside from the royal palace, to which she couldn't obviously just barge in and demand to see the king, it was the taverns of any city that were the ones with the closest finger on the pulse of the city and beyond. The tavern was where you heard the news, bought the rarer goods, sold and often bought your slaves and got a good drink - as well as hire mercenaries. Judging by the shout from the tavern Ögei was approaching, she'd found one.<br/><br/>'Damn northerners, only good for screaming at the top of their lungs... good when there's a fire, I guess,' she thought as she hopped off her horse, patted Aduu on the neck and headed inside, letting her eyes get used to the change - if small change - in light, before skirting closer to that one scene that looked the most likely to have anything whatsoever to do with mercenaries.<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>