The guards stick their noses where they shouldn't be. Always. 'We don't know shit about any Journeyman in the city' or 'Scram ya bandit filth". He'd rather stay away from being seen by the guards and loitered until an opportunity presents itself with the appearance of a horse-drawn carriage. 

The steed let out a weary neigh and the merchant was restless... Seated on the shotgun of the well-worn cart wiping the sweat that dribbled softly along his tanned face as the guard approached him with their weapons stowed on their shoulders. "Yeah, yeah. This just the normal goods I be bringing from the South. Here's your damn papers..." The man continued to babble on as the guards seemed to contently allow the cart to pass. With a swift yoke of his reins, the horse carried on into the city and took a street towards the stables.

Mezzar. City's damn well crowded. Cities are always crowded. Center of trade, business and fuck-all partnership that ends with a pointy stick up your arse. He wasn't sure exactly why they chose this city in the first place-- but I guess it being a 'Free City', guess jobs are aplenty. The carriage finally arrived at its desired destination-- a stable structurally held together by a few misplaced rocks that supported the ceiling competently. He relaxed his limbs and allowed his fingers to leap away from the bottom of the merchant's cart, resting onto the stable's dry dirt floor tattered with hay and rolled to the side quickly. The merchant took notice.

"Hey... Hey you!" The tanned man called to him. Riance paid him no mind and continued walking as he frantically went to check his goods-- whom the man believe that he stole something.

[hr]

It didn't take him long to stumble upon a busy market where people are strewn about with the attractions of merchants across the land. Baubles and trinkets that shine steal the eye... Almost a perfect set up for pickpockets and thieves to operate in. Problem was, most of the folk who were interested were poor, ragged and smelled like piss. Perhaps their pockets even have piss in it. Occasionally you could spot a wealthy man; surrounded by a group of guards who made the way for'em by forcefully pushing others aside. Then there's the wise rich men who dressed themselves the part of common folk. If only they don't smell so clean or have pale complexions.

He pushed people gently along their shoulders trying to cover some distance. The stream of people walking against his direction were vast. His pace doubled as he found a break among the wandering men and realised that people began to voluntarily open a path. Someone was coming. Riance took notice of the man running frantically with great strides. No doubt a thief based on the speed in which he ran and the body language he displayed. He was unsure if he had gotten away judging from his quick head turn. Should he leap into action? The Journeyman's code would suggest that he does. Then maybe...

He took hold of the neck of his spear and began his own stride. The man was running towards his direction; all Riance had to do was intercept. He swiftly slipped and slithered along the crowd, sliding the spear gently as to not cut any innocent man he passed. It wasn't exactly the thick forestry he was used to navigate but people make for good cushioning than trees or dirt. He was able to reach the runner just in time in front of him and swung the shaft of his spear towards the running man's chest. That's when he underestimated the man. He was able to duck under the shaft... Despite losing balance but quickly gathered his pace as he slipped away from Riance. "Athletic. Or at least good enough to have anticipated that." He gathered his breath and stowed the spear away. Riance had lost interest in the thief... He got away.

"Wasting my time thinking about him." Riance continued to walk towards his destination from the market, to the Journeyman's Headquarters.