Xil'Yavin "Yavin"

Here I was walking down the bleak, over crowded, barren, narrowly winding streets of the middern city district in Hell, once again I might add. Another day of slinking through the alleyways and narrow roads, heading my way towards the assassin's hall. As I approached the assassin's hall, I noticed a small, lithe figure propped up against the hall's outside. walls Hmmm? Fresh blood, are ye? I asked the figure, laying on my thick accent, [please pretend it's a mix of German and Scottish].