Martha
"The way I see it, everyone's gotta vice, and nobody can keep there hand out the jar for long, this Gambit guy likes to put his hands in other people's jar so I got an idea for a trap. We spread a rumour, some big exchange going on between two diamond thieves who are partners that are moving their stash a few steps outside the town, where we met up. If the gambit really does have an ear for this stuff, it might bring him and his goonies right out, we come out to the field, if we think we can take him we do, if he has too many guys, we can follow him, either way we have a lot less chance of this gambit guy picking up we specifically are after him, while also finding him."

*Tieres cleared his throat, leaning close, and lowering his head* 

"You got a big voice, just, you know, say some shit loud."
Thomas
*Alkamenos understood what plan his companion sought to get themselves into. Yet he still pondered whether this would work... It would seem from the outside like an obvious trick to get people to notice them and take interest to fall in for a trap, but who knows... Whatever the case is, Alkamenos decided to go with it. It isn't like he has anything better planned at the moment, so anything was good now.*

"So... About that diamond necklace that you hath spoken of to me! Aye, I have it here..."

*Alkamenos spoke is a slightly raised voice, his hand reaching out to a pouch at the side of his belt.*

"Though, I wouldn't want to discuss this further! Myhaps we should lead this conversation outside, where there are not so many ears as there are now within the tavern... And we can further discuss prices!"

*As he spoke, he waited for the response of his partner, but most importantly, the response of the mighty Gambit who was expected to be within the tavern here.*
Mark
*The commotion inside the bar would continue to rage on. It was apparent that either no one heard, or no one cared. The people inside would continue to cheer, jeer, fight, and drink unbothered as if you weren't there in the first place.*

*However, a figure from the right would suddenly perk his head up slightly. He was a handsome, fair skinned macen man who seemed to be brooding alone in a corner of the tavern. He wore some plate armor covering his arms, legs, and torso, and had a sword's sheath leaning on the table in which he sat at. It looked like he had drunken a lot, judging by the seven empty mugs that sat on his table, but he barely looked up and started to listen to your conversation further.*