Strolling along the public mall of the Central Plateau near Guthrie's Market, you see a representative of the City of Towers' poor. A half-naked halforc lounging before you is an obvious native of Cliffside, if  the nautical motifs running consistent through the various tattoos covering his arms and torso are anything to judge by. The recent lice outbreak in Dura explains the shaved-bald head, though his vanity is still flattered by the heavily waxed broad curling Valenar-style mustache sitting on his upper lip. The sleeves of his coarse tunic are tied about his waist over loose short-cropped rust-colored breeks, with calloused bare feet below thin malnourished legs. He shares with his fellow docksiders and lower city inhabitants the narrow shoulders and thin figure that comes with years of poor nutrition, and his orc heritage, evident in his greenish skin tone, tusked underbite, and upturned nostrils, seems to have done all it could to add a suggestion of muscle to the bones beneath.

He wears few adornments: a series of gold and (probably fake) bejeweled rings lining his right ear; a crudely-crafted pendant of Tymora around his neck; in his hands he plays a string of airs on a pennywhistle, while passersby throw pennies in the cap on the ground in front of him.

Upon seeing a detachment of Sharn's City Watch, his tune changes to a loud performance of The Lances of Desjardins, the marching tune of the Head Captain's regiment in the Last War. The crowd around you takes notice and starts cheering and clapping as the Watch passes, while the Watch, not always accustomed to fanfare on their beats, smiles stupidly while they march. One probationary watchman waves back briefly, before a glare from the sergeant lets him know a station-house chewing out is in his future.

With the watch past, and the cheering died down, your glance returns to where the halforc busker was a moment ago to find him disappeared. Without quite knowing why, you look across the mall to Ninnian and Gomes Trading Company to see in the alley three shadows descend from a second-story window to disappear in the gloom - followed by a shirtless halforc, wearing a cap on his head and the tattoo of feathered wings across his back.