Thankfully for Creissus it's not a long wait, despite the length of the line initially. People move fast in and out of the building - it's likely that Scipio and Aubin's brief negotiation attempt took more time than a half dozen of the citizens queuing up for fresh cut meat. Inevitably people add to the queue behind Creissus, and after only fifteen minutes of plodding forwards in the snow-swept streets does the young disgraced nobleman find himself inside the store, alone, with the pair of deserter guards. The door shuts with a creaking thud, though given its rattle it won't be too hard to get open again. Though the room itself is a touch warmer than the outdoors, and free from the wind, it's not exactly welcoming.

Hasty though the disguise may be, they don't see through it at a glance. Wheezer gives you a once over, then reaches below the counter and pulls out a small package wrapped in beeswax linen, tied with thin twine. "'ere you are. Freshly butchered."