There is a place set aside for those too ostentatious and politically bound to get their hands dirty. Anyone who has spent long enough listening to the rumors and whispers on the Stokbon streets might have heard of it. Laced between smoky back roads and dank alleyways, a secret passage hides, disguised behind a false wall.
Within, a set of torches dimly illuminate the surroundings of what appears to be a grand, entrance hall. A luxurious, red carpet lines the floor, leading down the immediate stairway, stopping just before a desk. A finely dressed attendant resides in a cushioned seat, behind the wooden table, smiling and greeting all who enter.