It was a surprise to see Alma following behind. One that sent a small smile to Flint's face. He slowed down, letting her catch up. "We'll be meeting with a friend of mine. I hope you don't mind uh...seedy establishments." Seedy was a generous word for the business. Hell, disreputable was too nice a word. He didn't elaborate on his choice of words, and decided to let Alma make her own judgement. A few minutes of steady walking, and they arrived at The Honey Suckle.<br/><br/>The building was lavish, or rather what counted as lavish by Low Town standards, painted vibrant purple and gold. Beautiful men and woman stood around, calling out to the various men and women that walked by, hoping to gain the eye of a hopeful client. Flint waved to a blond elven man,leaning in close to some poor fool, who seemed to not know how this whole thing worked. When the blond noticed Flint, he gave the gentle a coy smile and motioned towards the entrance to The Honey Suckle, and with a wink, he rushed over to the two.<br/><br/>"Flint, this better be good. I'm working, you know." The mans voice was smooth,and held a certain air of suggestion, even through the slight annoyance his tone held. Flint chuckled and gave the man a peck on the forehead,which seemed to soften him up. He smiled,and patted Flints cheek. "Cheater. Using that charm of yours," He sighed.<br/><br/>"Come now Brooke, when is it never important? I promise it wont take long, and I'll even pay you for your time." Flint pulled out a couple of gold piece, and handed them over to Brooke's waiting hand. After a short pause, the blond nodded, and shoved the coins into an unseen pocket. "Alright, come along, and while you're at it, please do introduce me to this lovely lady you have with you." Brooke gave Alma a sweet smile, eyeing her with genuine curiosity. She was well dressed, and looked to be of noble blood. "This is Miss Alma. Alma, this coy bast*rd is Brooke, my friend."  Brooke scoffed. "Friend? That's cold, love. I thought we had something special." Brooke gave a mock sob, and Flint snorted, as he pushed into the business. Once inside their senses were assaulted by the smell of strong perfumes, and fine wines. Inside was even more lavish, with plush areas to sit, and drink, while the pretty young thing you bought for the evening fondled your pockets for all you were worth. It was hard for Alma not to notice the feather light touches that managed to go under the guest radars as they were striped of jewelry, or money. Flint didn't seem to mind as they got deeper in, leading the three of them to the back,where the rooms held scandalous sounds. Brooke smirked when Alma noticed a rather influential merchant lord stumble from one of those rooms, drunker then a skunk, and a thin woman blowing kisses farewell to him.<br/><br/>"Poor bast*rd,"Flint chuckled a little, and stopped outside a large painting of a beautiful woman. The painting was framed in gold, and seemed to give off a faint magical presence. Looking to Brooke to open the way, Flint gestured for him, and the elf raised one nimble finger, and Alma watched as the painting came to life, and the woman in the frame, blinked once, than twice, before stepping to the side to reveal a stone path that led down. Flint stepped through the frame, and for a second it seemed like he wouldn't go through, before a wrinkle of magic swallowed him, and he appeared in the painting stepping down the path. Brooke looked to Alma, and motioned for her to go, following after, the painting reverting back to normal to the outside world as they descended the stairwell. At the bottom, a large cavern opened up, filled with odd magical bits and bobs, all illegal, and all buzzing with powerful magical energy. Flint was already digging through the items,and Brooke sighed. "Here we are, and all your things are just fine. Now can one of you explain why you're here? I mean, not that I don't love to spend time with you, love, but you usually only need this stop of you're up to something illegal,or dangerous, so which is it?"<br/><br/>Brooke seemed genuinely concerned, and when Flint made a noncommittal noise, he turned his question to Alma. "Please tell me he isn't going to end up dead."