The Dragon's Lament was a dive bar in a city of dives, a rough ramshackle building populated by a singular collection of rogue and blackguards of all sorts and types. Scattered among the rough made tables and chairs were a half dozen scoundrels of various sorts, engaged in drinking, carousing, and gambling. At least two card games were at play, and there was a singular bard seated in the corner, playing a lute against the low rumble of discussions.<br/><br/>Belial would find the interior of the building dimly lit, with a single innkeeper managing the bar, and a few scattered waitresses in skimpy garb delivering drinks. The innkeeper himself was an older dwarf with grizzled gray beard and a fearsome look. The tiefling would know him as Burt, the owner of this particular establishment. He glanced up at their entry, giving a curt nod, and reaching from beneath the bar to uncork a bottle elvish wine, pouring a cup for the sorcerer, and setting it before them when they arrived at the bar.<br/><br/>"Afternoon Belial. I see you're a few short on companions from when last we met. Things go south on that job you were planning?  No concern of mine mind, just idle curiosity. Your usual room is available, such as it is. 3 gold, and I'll throw in some companionship if that interests you."<br/><br/>The dwarf gave a sideways glance to one of the waitresses, a comely young lass of elvish heritage. The young elf gave him a reproachful look in return before continuing her rounds, laying out drinks amid the bar patrons. She did spare a wink for the tiefling though, apparently finding the young sorcerer appealing.<br/><br/>"On the other hand, if you're looking for someone to aid in your...business, I've got a few contacts on hand. What are you looking for at the moment? A rogue, conman, healer? You know I've got the contacts to make that happen, for the right price."