In the outer region of a large city, the constant clink of pick axes barely reaches the surface, muffled only by the burning of oars and those who hack away at wood, or stay in the alleys to gamble of fight, there sat three particularly odd people on the back of a beat down and barren pump. To the left most sat a woman, he skin pale, her lips red and her piercing black eye frightening away anyone who dared to even look to her. The boild leather strap bordering across the denim she and the other man adjacent to her wore, was there idea of armor. To the right most of them, sat a rather skrawny man, his face marked over with a mix of scars and bruises, his skin tan and olive, and his eyes a beautiful green. As he sat there, it became clear this man was not akin to being so open to the public. His eyes shook left and right, and he constantly sipping ever so slightly at the stale golden liquid they had been served as 'ale' only to be given hog wash.

 The man in the middle was rather particularity however. He did not wear the think and slick armor of the afore mentioned characters, but instead was covered in embalming cloth that left only sparse hairs to flop every which way around, peeking out like an eel looking for a meal. His composer was strange, while the others seemed down and angry, he was lax, lax enough to recline and place a hand of both of there chairs. In his mouth,he kept a pipe that he used, rather than the small and fragile hookah that stood before them. Occasionally h would allow smoke to slither out from his nose. The funnel of smoke that came up from the pipe was thin and small, but stayed potent. 
"sir, I believe we came here to discuss the matter of-" The lady began, sternly remarking only to be cut off by the leader himself.
"now now, be patient, it's be better to talk over our next meal, no?" The man asked in a sly way. The others nodded, and soon plates of burnt fish and seered grains arrived. The scrawny man went to negotiate they not pay for such trash.
"Now, we may talk of the raid"
"sir, with all do respect, this is the worst plan since that idea to steal all the cattl-"
"might I remind you, that was the idea of Ezreal, and I made sure he understood the consequences"
"The notion still stands" She growls.
The mummified man sips a drink before he responds, but he had done so slow and smooth.
"It may seem a bad idea, but that's assuming we are of the valiant militia that swings in, brandishing the crudest of weapons in an attempt to paralyze trained soilders in fear. But my plan runs deeper than such. Th guttersnipes are theifs remember, hilde? So why not use our abilities as such to steal away the needed resources from a group and have a minor bergade in the militia" He boast his plan wildly.
The two sit in silence as a bloody handed Ezreal walks back, tossing money onto the table.
"This revolt was going to happen someday, it was only a matter of time"
"I understand raul, but why help make a new, weaker government, lt takes from our revenue"
"Just be patient, we must prepare"
And with that, they leave