As the other two members of the party rushed towards the ale room, Crom took notice of their younger companion. In his drunken state, he was in no real condition to walk, much less run. "Cmon lad, we've got to get out of here." Without hesitation, the bulk of a man tossed the boy over his shoulder and followed his compatriots through the ale room and into the alley. He sincerely hoped the boy would refrain from vomiting on his cloak.The mercenary's eyes raced up and down the alley. Johnathon's strategy of hiding in plain sight seemed decent enough, still, keeping a low profile would help them. "Maybe, but we should stay on the backstreets if we can." He motioned to the boy he had thrown over his shoulder. "This might look a bit suspicious." The sounds of a rather loud fight could be heard from the other side of the tavern. "Maybe whatever's going on over there will cause enough distraction for us." Crom eyed Griff quizzically. "Griff, do you know who they're looking for?"