Laszlo smiled, the game was afoot. He tucked his cup away and stood up sprouting a flowing white beard. A walking stick appeared in his hand, he leaned on it, adjusting his pack. Rather than a hunch back, he now had an ale gut. He needed to get her somewhere they could talk, "Always pick their minds before you fleece their pockets," his master had reminded him.<br/><br/>In the alleyway, Siriel spoke, "Well met, Ms. Cassandra. I'll tell you my tale at the Elderwood, and you can tell me yours. I like to know I've got a trustworthy client before I make any arrangements, I assume you'll be feeling the same way. You'll like the inn, probably the last place in town where a girl can get sleep without curious guardsmen poking about, asking questions."<br/><br/>She smiled and stepped out of the alleyway, signaling the girl to follow, "I will not lie though, the ale leaves much to be desired."<br/><br/>Laszlo walked on ahead of her, no one ever checks in front of them for a tail, and Siriel set off behind him for the inn at the edge of the residential district.