Sylvester peered through his window, glancing down at all those individuals who'd come for the festival. Seemed it was time to work for all the spirits he'd imbibed. The clothed himself with casual efficiency, hiding his mithril shirt beneath the fabric of his robes. The booze wrinkled his nose. He must've gotten a little careless last night after he'd run out of wine. All the same, he'd soon fish out the chalice from his belongings and start the day off right. Weapons sheathed, gear and drink in hand, he moved out into the streets. Sylvester's casually followed the armed crowd, decently sure that he'd eventually stumble across the sub basement entrance this way.