A statue down the street drew his attention, and he made his way towards it, quickly noticing that it was situated in the middle of a crossroads. Many people strolled about the stone circle, and he joined them, taking in the figure, a warrior astride a rearing horse. Looking closer, Athgar saw that beneath the figure's mount, trampled into the ground, was a man who, he was surprised to see, was dressed much like the people of his own village.

A young boy stood in front of the statue, reading from a plaque, "'598 SR'. What happened then, Father?"

"Never mind, son," his father replied, "we must be on our way."

Athgar immediately recognized the date. It was when the final battle of the Therengian Kingdom occurred, the year his people had failed in their efforts to stem the invaders.

He stepped back, shaken by the revelation; if the people here celebrated the defeat of the Therengians, then he would likely find little help. Devastated, he turned from the scene and continued down the street, following the general flow of citizens. Athgar quickly discovered where they were all headed, for the road soon opened into a vast area filled with market stalls. Many of those wandering about were examining wares or watching entertainers. A man walking on wooden stilts passed by with a horde of children following while a woman entertained passers-by with a dog that danced on its hind legs.

Athgar was struck by the cacophony of sound; dogs barking, hawkers selling their wares, children laughing, all melding together into continuous waves that assaulted his ears.

He stopped at a merchant's stall and snatched up an apple. "Do you know where I can find a place called the Badger?" Athgar asked, tossing the man a coin.

The man snatched it from the air. "Two blocks that way," he said, pointing, "you'll see a red sign on the northern side of the street."

"Thank you," said Athgar.

"No, thank YOU," the man said, doffing his hat in reply.

Deciding he'd had enough of the crowd, Athgar made his way westward, down the street the merchant had suggested. The road here was narrower, but, to his mind, still packed with people. His progress was slow, but he soon spotted the sign, a wooden placard with its namesake on it.

The place was busy, a noisy, raucous room that filled his ears with the chatter of its many patrons. He squeezed his way through the crowd that seemed impossibly dense, to make his way to the bar. Finally finding a spot, he raised his hand to get the barkeep's attention.

The tall, heavyset man behind the bar moved to his location. "What can I getcha?" he asked.

"I'm looking for someone," Athgar yelled, trying to be heard over the noise of the crowd.

"That's nice," the barkeep replied, "but you'll have to buy a drink first. I don't offer free information."

"Very well," said the Therengian, "I'll have an ale."