From the small, bare room serving him for lodgings, Nurthan gathered his belongings and set out for his destination, his dress subdued except for the jeweled pendant around his neck. His preference was to dwell on the street itself, but in a city such as this, there were enough of the truly destitute and downtrodden that to compete with them for their carefully gained and guarded resting places would have been wrong. Instead, he settled for the floor of the tiniest inn room he could find.<br/><br/>He came to the house of the Lady of Masks shrouded in a long brown robe, hiding his body with its armor and peacebound mace. All he owned was on his person now, as he knew little of what would come past this night, and he was ready to travel. In the meeting room itself, he waited patiently in utter silence, his eyes fixed ahead without an apparent focus, until the Lady herself emerged and spoke to them. Even when she did, he gave no reaction for several seconds, then stepped forward silently to sign his name and take the offered coin. It went into his belt pouch, joining a sparse handful of others with a forlorn clinking noise.