He steps lightly into the landing.

Is there light? Is there any daylight?

He sees a hallway.  There is one hanging lantern maybe a dozen paces away.  He can hear the sound of voices above.

Then he'll run down the hallway. He wants to get as far from the basement as possible, keeping his eyes peeled for daylight in the form of windows or doors.

He will see many doors.  At the end of the hallway is a half flight of descending stairs leading to a large wooden double door.

He looks backwards over his shoulder.  Is Morte there?

Yes, visible in the dark by his skull's luminosity.  There is also the sound of a man's shout further up the hall.

He'll try the double doors.  Hopefully they are exterior doors.

As he begins to push them, gray morning light and a damp chill greet him.  The doors open into a walled courtyard.

The external walls are around fifty paces away, rising up ten feet or so, and made of stone.  There is a visibly closed iron gate.

He moves in the direction of the gate. He'll transition from running to striding briskly, now that he is in the open and still wearing a stolen robe.

What manner of gate is it? A portcullis descending from above? Or like an iron fence secured by a chain and lock? Is there a gatehouse door nearby?  Can he see a locking mechanism?

It looks to be a sideways swinging hinge door, set in an iron frame.  There is a thick chain currently securing one end of the door to the frame.

A small stone building abuts the courtyard wall beside the gate.  It has a darkened doorway, visibly open, and a dustman comes running out when The Nameless One is within fifteen paces of it.

Then he’ll raise his voice and assume the tone of an angry superior.

“There are thieves!” He thrusts his arm towards the gate.

“Why haven’t you closed the gate?”

He’ll keep walking towards the dustman.

The dustman spends about a second and a half turning to look at the visibly closed and locked gate and then turning back in alarm.

The Nameless One reaches the dustman and drives a fist into his gut.  He starts the motion as a continuation of the swing of his arms as he strides, waiting till the last instant to reveal his intent.

He catches the dustman as he reels, and shoves him backwards up against the wall of the gatehouse.

"Keys!" he shouts.

The dustman shakes his head from side to side and attempts to raise his arms to defend himself.

The Nameless One ignores the dustman's flailing and brings his own left forearm up to the man's neck, pushing up and inwards.

Without looking he reaches into his belt with his right hand to retrieve the scalpel. He raises it to within a few inches of the man's eye. 

He gives a quick look behind him for Morte.

He drops the pitch of his voice and shouts again.  "Where are the keys?"

Morte has made it out into the courtyard, with the double doors still open behind him.

As of yet there are no other dustmen in sight.

The gatekeeper's eyes go wide and he stills himself.

"Here," his voice rasps out, constricted by the pressure of the Nameless One's arm.

He fumbles in his robes and pulls out a ring with half a dozen large toothy keys.  This dustman is actually a lot smaller than the other.  Scarcely more than a boy.

He glances downwards.  He is not amused.

"Which one for the gate?" he roars.

"Here," he says again.  "Here."

His hands are shaking as he isolates a key with no apparent differentiating features.

He'll need to use both his hands to try the lock.  It's heavy, and the chains through which it passes are thick.

The gatekeeper turns and runs as soon as The Nameless One loosens his grip.  "Help!" he shouts.

The lock clicks and opens.

Two dustmen have stepped out from the building now.  One of them holds a crossbow.

"Morte!" he shouts.

He grabs the free end of the chain with both hands and pulls hard, freeing it from the bars of the gate.

He turns his back to the dustmen and hauls the gate open.  He'll hold it open for Morte and then follow.

Morte passes through the gate, suddenly moving more swiftly than he had inside the mortuary, and turns to the left, breaking line of sight with the dustmen.

As he passes through the gate, The Nameless One perceives a whistling sound, followed a moment later by the sensation of a stinging in his back.

They emerge into a plaza of dingy buildings.  There are push carts set up, and maybe a dozen pedestrians within view. Most are human, though there are a few recognizable tieflings.

The atmosphere gives the impression of an urban slum, extending for block after disorganized block in all directions.

One humanoid shape with radically different skin color appears to be floating in the air, akin to the hovering of Morte, while hammering a board against a partial wall that appears to be being constructed from scrap plywood.