Slipping out of the confines of the Gahmez estate as nighttime settles over Hazard, the party makes its way back down toward the waterfront. As you draw nearer to the river, you find that darkness has not yet put all of the city to sleep, as you pass several noisy, firelit taverns and a few women and men lurking on the streetcorners call after you with offers of turpitudinous goods and services. There are guards, too, pacing their rounds in their distinctive cylindrical caps and carrying torches. Crossing a small footbridge over a canal, you pass a young man vomiting loudly into the water below.
At the waterfront itself, laborers are still busy unloading barges. Massive river pikes fly through the air before you as fishers toss them off their boats to workers who deftly catch them.
Soon enough, you can see points of orange light over the river, torches carried by the guards patrolling the Peddler's Bridge. You're almost there.
Everybody roll a Perception check.
