There's an alley surrounded by buildings of stone, metal, and wood. The pavement is stone and very uneven. The air smells of foul things that aren't just garbage or sewage. The alley connects two larger streets where pointy-eared humanoids with brightly colored hair walk or ride flying constructs. There's a sign with a picture of a person in red armor and a caption in an unfamiliar alphabet.
Blai in Haven City
bughouse
Blai is not cunning enough to do complicated evidential derivations from advice which is not warranted to meet any standard at all. "Thank you," he says, and he leaves.