Clint made it down the road past the farmland and herders on his right keeping the tall hill circling to his left all the way to the Basilisk Gate. High walls surround the main city proper, the sprawling metropolis alive and bustling with activity and hurried faces on errands and mercantile business.

Clint, a country boy at heart, was still feeling out of his element in the fast moving city. Here he was again, though this time for personal reasons and not a Candle Keep escapade sending him chasing the tails of were-creatures of all things.

Gate security was lax and he was spared scrutiny being able to pass freely. Clint found himself back at "Garmult's House of Mastery."

Striding in confidently, or at least making sure to have the appearance of confidence, Clint is immediately confronted by the comforting sounds of armaments coming together amidst the barking of martial instructions and the smells of sweat from intense physical exertion. Half of the first floor is taken up by a handful of training areas, two of which are currently occupied.

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In one, a young Dwarvish woman, stout and stubborn, trades blows with a middle-aged human. He offers encouragement and instruction, but is aggressive and persistent. She is able to parry consistently the first two or three in any series of attacks before overreaching to attempt her own and getting struck in the process. Clint can tell that some patience and calm will benefit her greatly.

In the other, Clint can see a strange figure with a yellow-green complexion, gaunt, angular features, and dark brown hair bound up in a top knot. Dressed in a simple tunic and loose pants, the man is tranquil amidst the chaotic energy of the two combatants currently under his supervision. Though this placid warrior is rail thin, his lanky arms are lithe and sinewy. Perhaps sensing Clint's attention upon him, he turns his gaze toward the Western Cobra and regards him with jet black irises.

Looking away, Clint recognizes the main counter, where he signed up for the newsletter, a copy of which he held in his hand. A door behind the counter swings open and out strides Darbrand Garmult, the very man that Clint wanted to see. Darbrand seems to be preoccupied and bends down to grab something from a shelf below the smoothie dispenser without seeming to notice Clint.