The bartender grins at the pair, his unusually white teeth glinting again in the darkness.  "Why, the man is in this very establishment!"  He says dramatically, his eyebrows raised as though he is at least as surprised as his questioners at the answer.  "A Sir William Blake, I do believe he does by.  A foreigner, as if you couldn't tell from the name.  Avalonian."<br/><br/>Bending down beneath the counter once more, the barkeep retrieves a small token, a brass disk with the image of the sun etched on it.  After a glance between the pair, he hands to the one he judges more likely to kill him for a breach in etiquette, rather than the one entrancing him with her cleavage.  "Give that to him.  Through that door, third on the right."  He jerks his thumb towards one of the doors in the back of the room, scarcely visible in the dim lighting.  He smiles again, that curious glint rising to his eyes once more.  "Oh, and tell him I sent you."<br/><br/>The door opens easily enough, into a hallway even darker than the common room.  Heavy doors line both sides of the corridor, almost as much light coming underneath the doors as is used in the hallway.  The third door on the right seems just as featureless as the others, although perhaps a touch more light streams around its edges.