Like the turning of the water wheel the turn of the new day comes once again, this time with Cyrus walking through the streets of Meridianam followed by a scarred looking fellow wearing worn leather armor with a somewhat torn undershirt underneath and an odd cloth mask that covered only the lower half of his face. The two were currently in the outer ring of the city known as the densest area of the city in terms of human population, as this was the area where the many workers that allowed the entire city and some of the surrounding area to function all lived. From those who worked in the forges to groundskeepers to those who worked on maintaining the walls, some of the most integral but also the most easily replaced people lived in this area. The streets were larger than any other area, to accommodate for the mass amount of people that left and entered during the start and end of the work day, with the buildings being long and often of multiple stories all of a worn colors and tones.
"The first step of my plan will be completed here" thought Cyrus as he ventured deeper and deeper into the population zone. "I need a reliable source of information that works from the ground up, that can give me the perspective of the most common of men."
Cyrus turned several corners until he came upon a rather unassuming building, that looked no different from all the others. From his observations, however, he had noticed there was a certain type of crowd that had been entering and exiting said building. Observations that had taken him several tours around the pop zone to notice fully.
Walking up to the building he entered through the front door, immediately being greeted by what any lay person would recognize as the normal entryway of a large residential building where multiple families stayed. Cyrus scanned the room, obviously convinced of its abnormality, heading from one wall to the next looking at the floor and under the rug that lay on most of the floor. Eventually he discovered various scratch marks that were arranged in a large arc under one part of the rug, of which on the wall in front was a banner with the Imperial Leo on it in an apparent act of national pride.
Pleased with his easier than expected discovery, Cyrus pulled the banner back to reveal a hidden doorway in an otherwise unassuming corner of the building. He opened the door and stepped in, followed by his companion Fauve, with little care as to what he would find on the other side. With the door closed behind him, he was greeted by the sight of a worn looking hidden tavern. Tables and chairs were set up all around, full of greasy foodstuffs and mugs of mead, with a rough looking individuals galore. Workers, laborers, groundskeepers and even maintenance men could be found here drinking away a hard day's work or perhaps even in preparation for their work. The smell of heavy alcohol rushed towards Cyrus nose mixed in with vapers of smoke, as each man reveled in their various illegal narcotics and drinks.
"No matter where you are, some things never change" thought Cyrus as he recalled similar scenes such as this one from his time in the wastelands.
Breaking from his thoughts, he sat down at a table with eyesight of most of the tavern quickly and quietly. Sitting in a posture that oozed arrogance and nonchalance, he gestured towards his rough looking companion with a lazy gesture. With that, his companion moved towards the front of the tavern where the bar was and began chatting up the barkeep whilst passing a gold coin through his fingers all the while. Cyrus noticed the barkeep looking at the coin with barely disguised greed, as he eyed two men that were close by all the while. Sensing something wrong the scarred man raised an eyebrow and with a flick of his wrist several daggers flew from his sleeve and impaled themselves in the wall behind the two men that ended up shaving more than just a few hairs off their beards. The man, not having broken eye contact with the barkeep even once, merely smiled smugly while saying what Cyrus assumed to be some kind of self-praise mixed with a threat or two. Having gotten the message from the show of skill and possibly being worried by the apparent insanity of the one he was dealing with, the barkeep nodded vigorously to whatever request was made of him and he promptly entered into the kitchen.
Having completed his task, the scarred man of great skill returned back to Cyrus, who was still maintaining his lofty and arrogant demeanor which matched up perfectly to his well dressed attire that mimicked that which Imran had worn during the exam. Sitting down in a chair next to him, leaning it back whilst flicking a knife around his other hand like a toy, the scarred man said
"I finished the mission bra-, er I mean boss. As expected of one with as much skill and insight as I, the barkeeps deception was easily seen through and he finally accepted the request" said the man, easily revealed to be Fauve the moment he uttered a single sentence.
"Good" nodded Cyrus magnanimously, fully invested in the act of master and servant.
Mere moments later the barkeep returned from the kitchen, followed by a middle-aged man that you could perhaps find working in a bookstore. The man walked towards Cyrus while wiping his glasses with his cloth, which caused Cyrus to wonder whether this man was also acting for a moment, before he stopped and took a look at Cyrus. Sizing him up for a moment, taking careful note of the type of clothes he wore as well as how his hair was done, the man then opened his mouth and said
"We have heard and agreed to your request sir. So long as you prepare the necessary payment, we will provide you with what little information we can provide."
"Hmmph" snorted Cyrus with a contemptuous flair. "Money is of no issue to me, do not insult me so. Do your work and you will be paid, simple as that." He then promptly got up and began to head for the exit, seeing Fauve out of the corner of his eye hand a small scroll full of the specific information being looked for as well as a drop point for it.
Knowing that the job was successfully completed he continued leaving with whilst taking care to turn his nose up whilst doing so, easily painting the picture of an arrogant individual that you would most likely wish to ignore.