A strange man in a dirty cloak walks down a dark alley. He is absorbed in something, walking without looking where he is going, and tripping regularly. There are signs of a beating on his face, bruises.

The yellow face is hidden. The birds are hidden. Now we will find him, we will find him, my...

In the mud around, you can see many footprints from several pairs of feet, and a capsule with gunpowder lies in front of the threshold.

The pirate WisTrit is swimming. The splashing of the water reminds him of his youth – of the captured ships, of the revelry after successful voyages, of the pretty young ladies, and, of course, of rum, strong and undiluted. He is pulled out of the world of dreams by a sharp smell.

The monk WhiteLizard goes out onto the porch of his house, goes down the steps, and almost trips over a large wooden club. After turning it over in his hands for a dozen seconds, he decides to take it to the captain of the guard.