After a solid half an hour of searching the busy crowd, Lyra is about to give up when she spots a man lying supine in a tiny alley between two stalls. Approaching him, she sees at he has the pale, almost translucent skin of a void-born under his greeting scruff and stubble. The rags he wears appear to once have been uniform, although they are now thoroughly stained and in tatters. He looks up through bleary bloodshot eyes and you can smell the synthol on his breath.<br/><br/>"Oooo? Hey! You're very pretty, white haired girl... Been a long time since an pretty girls have talked to old Zadok. What can he be doing for pretty girl?"