"Certainly, miss."<br/><br/>The imp nods its head, and goes back to reading the book it is holding, only putting it down as another patron enters just moments before Alaedra leaves. They also seem to be a Primer, lost in Hell and trying to stay out of trouble, from the look of things.<br/><br/>The streets are, as ever, busy. Small groups of devils wander along, whereas those looking more like mortals tend to travel alone, and usually don't dawdle. Just along the nearest street to the alleyway the inn can be found in, there are a few places that either sell clothes off the rack or tailor them to customer specifications.<br/><br/>One enormous, bulbous fiend, a mass of giant, bloated, gleaming boils, with ropy calloused limbs, sits atop a small platform, looking over the streets as it is carried by a team of Lemures, the small, oozelike creatures that barely even qualify as fiends. Over to one side, a skeletal devil with empty eye sockets and a scorpion tail is cornering and apparently questioning a demon that is quite clearly a succubus. She is quick to show documents, which it eyes over most carefully, almost hoping to find a sign of forgery.