Drake runs out into an open hallway, apparently unfilled with the sounds of combat. He could see no sign of the scarred mercenary, but there was a group of heavily armored men up at the north corridor. "Well, I suppose it is politic for a lady to be fashionably late. I just hope she is not such drunk as to get lost." Sighing, he starts up to where the combat is. "Pardon me!"

Move to Q8 and wait.