The man seems mildly amused at her behaviour, but Iris's scrutiny shows that the smile does not go anywhere near his ice blue eyes. He turned to the bar man. "Courvoisier. The '37."<br/><br/>After the drinks arrived, and the barman prudently retreated to a safe distance, he turned to regard Iris, taking a few moments to let his gaze take her in from top to bottom. "I am generally referred to as Karag." he replies, his accent sounding somewhat European perhaps. "Though names are simply a convenience. I could not help but overhear you as I entered."<br/><br/>He paused, taking a sip from the glass, before continuing. "I am an arranger of matters, and one who holds many favours. Information is one of the commodities I deal in. You require some information, do you not? What is it you seek, and what would you offer in return, had I the knowledge you require?"