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A drunk recognizes another drunk from afar, so upon seeing Ruven's familiar, bleary face, the guard at the eastern gate let him pass without questions and even offered a semblance of a bow instead of a greeting. Or perhaps it was the self-assured way he walked past them. If a person looks like they know what they're doing, then everything is fine...
But not everyone missed the arrival of yet another stranger in the city. Ruven hadn't even walked a couple of streets when he attracted the attention of two boys. One, apparently from the slums, had tattered trousers on his legs that clearly didn't match the current cool weather, and his clothes, obviously made for an adult, were covered in unpatched holes. He looked about ten or eleven years old. The second, decently dressed, was only a little older, if not the same age as the first, but significantly taller and, apparently, more energetic – as soon as he saw the warrior, he got up from the bench and greeted him with a bow.
— Sir! Good day, sir, is this your first time in the city?
A clear voice was heard – someone called out to him. It seemed that he had aroused the interest of the local children.
— Hello, kids. No, it's not my first time. Although I haven't been here in a long time, I've already forgotten a little about where everything is.
Perhaps in a normal situation, he wouldn't have bothered talking to them, but now it might be useful. And he was in a good mood.
— So, I'm trying to remember which road leads to the square. Can you tell me? I'd like to get there, and then I'll figure things out.