Two men sit on barrels near the marketplace, drinking some kind of drink from potion bottles. While both wear long white robes, one's face is wrapped in a red kerchief and the other's wrapped in black. The man in red finished his sip of liquid.

"Нам нужно будет посмотреть, где мой припаркуем фургон. Мы начали его достаточным количеством пластиковой взрывчатки, чтобы сравнить с землей городской квартал, вокруг него были бочки с гвоздями и к тому подобное, чтобы люди Императора были уничтожены." The man in black nodded, swirling around his potion bottle as if mixing its contents. He looked back into the alley and then upwards as he leaned against the wall behind him.

"Хороший. Я не хочу ввязываться в перестрелку на рынке, если можно этого избежать. Слишком много припасов нам понадобится позже, чтобы не дожить до нашего возраста. Лучше нам сейчас расстаться." The two finished their drinks and parted ways, the man in black vanishing into the crowded market. The man in red headed into the alleyway and rounded a corner, a bound and gagged Emperor's Coven member squirming and trying to talk. "Russia sends it's regards." An angry cough spits out in the space of the alley, the coven member's squirming and groaning ceasing instantly after dropping like a sack of apple blood apples. The man in red simply nudged the coven member with the toe of his left boot and walked away from the area, blending into the bustling marketplace himself.