Mumbling under your breath (after you're out of Drake's hearing range of course) you notice the usual hustle and bustle of the market square.  Servants travel from booth to booth purchasing goods for their masters.  Pompous knights stand around boasting exaggerated tales of courage and valor to eager women. Merchants peddle their wares, beggars beg, and thieves snatch purses from hapless aristocrats. Somehow you just don't fit into this mix. Ah well, you think.  That's just fine.  You continue down the street until you come to your road. You take a right.