The Happy Bard was noisy, the hum of conversation, the shouted orders to the harassed serving maids and the smell of old sick, cooking aromas and unwashed people as you entered. Just you're typical tavern in the warehouse district of Greenport.<br/><br/>Your contact is sat in a corner, his back to the wall, a hat with a black feather on the table, the agreed signal. Gnawing on a chicken leg he looked up as you approached but continued eating. He does not inspire a great deal of confidence a thin wiry body encased in leather armour that looked stained and well used. In fact his general demeanor reminds you of a rat especially with the little beady eyes and somewhat pinched face.<br/><br/>Looking you over he gestures to the empty seats with the chicken leg before dropping the now empty bone onto the table. Taking a swig of his ale he regarded the pair of you. In a soft voice intended to be lost in the general noise he spoke. "I ask for support and what do they send me? Newbies fresh from their mama's tit."<br/><br/>Shaking his head as if in regret, "Have to do I suppose, OK, here it is. We are meeting a man, he will give me a scroll, I will look at it, give him a bag. Then we will go to the harbor and pass on the scroll to our contact aboard the Silver Spray. Got that?"<br/><br/>