“Well met then Wynnie,” says Max, smiling a little. “Welcome to Sharn. Mind the locals. They city’s got a good soul, but she can be a bit rotten in places.  I may not be here when you get back, but if you ask around Cassan Bridge, I am sure you will find me. I hope that while you are here you are treated to Sharn’s wonders rather than her dregs.”<br/><br/>As you leave the bar and follow Max’s directions to the Half-Pint Tavern, it becomes increasingly clear that he is, in fact, sending you straight into Sharn’s dregs. Dura Quarter is the oldest in Sharn, and it shows in the cracks in both stone and enchantments never restored. Middle Dura is closer to a lower ward than other quarters, catering to the working and lower class. It is not where you imagine Drevan, a nobleman, would decide to spend his evenings.<br/><br/>Even compared to the rest of Middle Dura, the Underlook district itself has seen better days. Dingy inns and restaurants line the streets, but many old businesses have closed and been transformed into wretched tenements. Nonetheless, cheap lodging is plentiful and travellers from across Khorvaire walk the streets. The Half-Pint Tavern looks no different on the outside than any other storefront. It sports a faded sign, scarred exterior, and a sturdy door with a good lock. It is immediately forgettable, except for the people by the door.<br/><br/>A member of the Sharn Watch stands in front of the Half-Pint Tavern, a look of fatigue and annoyance on his face. In front of him, a nervous half-elf paces back and forth. As you watch, the half-elf turns to say something to the guard, which only brings a scowl to the human’s face. He decides against it and heads off down the street.<br/>