Noah was immediately on his feet, the chair scraping back against the floor.
His voice immediately filled the air. "Where?"
The gang member, still panting, stammered out directions.
"Down by the old quarter, near the southern edge of the next district. There's a wooden house... he went in. We've been watching, and he hasn't come back out yet."
Noah's eyes narrowed.
He turned his head slightly towards the gang leader, who was already rising from his chair.
The man gestured at the nervous scout. "Lead the way. Now."
They moved swiftly, weaving their way through a lattice of alleys rather than the main streets.
Noah noticed it was purposeful. The routes had been chosen to avoid patrols, to keep them unseen.
The gang knew the backways of the district like veins in the body.
Noah walked in silence, his cloak brushing his boots with every step, his senses alert for anything that could happen.
