A tavern was easy enough to find. Arran could hear the music playing from the street and even in the middle of the day the place was packed full of people. The sign outside called it the Golden Wench, though nothing inside seemed golden.<br/><br/>It was as bad as the rest of the city had been in terms of cleanliness and decency. It smelled of spilled ale and the serving girls were very scantily clad. Their blouses showed off their chests and the skirts came to mid thigh at best.