“Diplomatic immunity and day visitor passes?”

“Someone recently got diplomatic immunity?” Monika inquires with an inviting voice, thinking she might get some additional intelligence on her bounty, Sigjin Vox.

“That's the story around the office.” The clerk smiles, pleased that the gorgeous redhead is so interested in his knowledge, “Only the Grand Vizier can grant such status and hasn't done so publicly in years. There are rumors he recently allowed a non-citizen into the city for sanctuary, but nothing has been said officially or known outside the Vizier's inner circle.”

“'You also mentioned a day pass.'” Monika goes for option two, “What are those?”

Taking a sip of his new beer, the official continues. “They're passes that allow a visitor to enter the city during the day and have to be turned in before nightfall. Originally they were used mostly for friends of wealthy citizens, until people complained about foreign tourists. Now only the Grand Vizier can give them out for special governmental business.”

“So there is no way I could get one?” Monika gives an exasperated sigh.

“Unless you're a foreign diplomat or a merchant invited personally by the Grand Vizier. However, there is no expiration date on them so if you're lucky enough to find an old one there still useable. Occasionally one shows up in some dead relatives storage and is sold for a large sum, for their quite valuable this day and age. The only person who might have one for sale is some belower muscle bound gangster with gold teeth who opened a gambling house on his boat down in docks a few years ago. A real low life, however, rumored to involved in smuggling, fencing, pit-fighting, prostitution and the like. I wouldn't set foot in his place.”

Monika puts her head in her hand, “Not Orterres,” she grumbles.

“Yeah, that's his name, Khan Orterres.” The clerk excitedly snaps his fingers. “You know him?”

“Lets just say I had a business dealing with Mr. Orterres in the past that left him a bit upset with me at its conclusion.” Monika grins, remembering his cries of anger when she humiliated the lumbering oaf at the end of a rather lucrative job.

“Ah.” The official nods and notes Monika's pondering disconnected look. “Wait?” He asks, “You're not really thinking of going to see that thug?”