Frank had read the letter more than once during his day. He had nothing special to do actually, after the incidents the docks were quiet and empty, the traffic had stop, and hell, who knew, maybe they were under an embargo. He had spent his day in the tavern until the time begun to be right. He was now heading towards the location indicated in the letter. He glances around empty streets as he went, spinning his pistol out of boredom. The closer he got to the spot, the less and less it spun, until finally it stops and he slips the gun into it's holster. He wasn't the first, nor the last, and he examined others as they arrive, Especially the nobleman that arrived soon after him caught his attention, for he had seen him before many times during his days. Nevertheless, he greeted him just as he would greet anyone else, politely yet quite neutrally.