"It... it definitely was," he agreed, having fallen back onto the bed, arms outstretched, legs still hanging off the side. He was well and truly beaten.<br/><br/>The page looked to be a letter; it was maddeningly difficult to read, since scorch marks covered large portions of it, rendering more than half of it illegible, including the signature. Without context, it was difficult to tell what was being discussed, but it sounded like a trade deal, of sorts. (Knowledge: Local or Linguistics, DC 20, would notice some common code phrases that indicate something more underhanded going on.)<br/><br/>With the directions Kevin gave, it wouldn't be too hard to find the tavern, on the outskirts of the city. A little ramshackle, and mostly empty, at this hour, she nevertheless would have the good luck of spotting a man who matched the description of Seven-Finger Steve, his half-hand clutching a mug of beer, as he lay with his head on the table, snoring softly.