The low rumble of chatter filled The Iron Drake tavern as patrons guzzled back gallons of cheap wine and poorly filtered mead. A Dwarva of unusual height stood behind the bar, his usually long beard cut short to prevent getting in the way of his profession and his was worn with the scars of a long forgotten war. The moon had reach it's apex and was now beginning to descend to the sea as the rickety wooden door to the tavern creaked open, unnoticed by all save the barkeep, and in strode a peculiar pair.

The barkeeps eyes met those of smaller man who's eyes seem to have an unnaturally shifting colour. The giant who had entered with him had to turn sideways and duck just to get through the doorway and was now moving in sync with the other fellow. The two reached the place where the bar met the wall and the smaller man propped himself up on a stool while his companion just leaned against the wall crossing his great arms over his chest and glaring in the barkeeps direction.

"Gilger, get your arse over here and serve me. Stop acting like I'm a stranger." The short haired man with the strange eyes hollered at the barkeep who's tenseness seemed to melt away as he casually hobbled to where his old friend sat.

"Raylen, how are you this lovely evening?" The barkeep reached under the counter and produced an expensive bottle of wine from which he poured two large glasses and placed them before Raylen and his ally.

"Terrible at best. I need to leave you with some contracts." Raylen picked up his glass and carefully tasted the wine, "Not the best I've had, but definitely beyond the regular servings of this place."

"I got it from a friend in the Market District." Gilger smiled, taking a swig from the bottled before re corking it and storing it again beneath the counter.

Raylen likewise chugged back the rest of his drink and as he slid the glass over to the barkeep also pushed a rolled piece of parchment towards him as well with his other hand, "Neyra will be by in the morning to collect on anything."

The barkeep nodded, pocketed the parchment and left the pair to their business. Raylen's companion still stared coldly in the Dwarva's direction, "To the fields with us then?"

Raylen nodded silently, raising to his feet and turning for the door. His companion followed, leaving his glass of expensive wine untouched on the counter.

Once they were outside and the cold chill had once again laid claim to their flesh Raylen spoke again, "But first, I have something to collect that may be of assistance. I had a decently skilled repair man fix up a repeater cross bow I procured from a fence in the slums. Should be done, I dropped it off a few days ago." On that final note the two silently made their way to the home of Spencer Sarceaux.

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