The old man lifted his cup to his lips, drinking the wine with a confidence that would unnerve some. His eyes stayed put on Rhoynar as the man admired the wealth of the room. The younger knight stopped on a object made a pure gold. It stood atop an old book, covered in writing he had not seen for decades. 

"It's-" The old man started before his '[i]friend[/i]' continued.
"The hand of Elia." Ser Illyn watched him more cautiously as the foreigner edged closer to the artifact, a look of concern visible in his eyes. "I saw drawings of it as a child, once in Meerai." The City of Dreams.
"The City of Thieves, yes. I hadn't expected your family to venture over across the desert." Ser Illyn commented. The man held his head high, eyes staring down the black haired knight.
"My father took us when he traveled to buy an army." Rhoynar smiled and turned his eyes back to the Lord before him. "He used that army to take the keep at Astipor."
"And what a glorious battle that was." 
"I don't need your approval, my lord. I'm here because you asked me to be. No one knows that desert like my people. You can't expect a soul to cross it without a guide." Rhoynar span at the sound of the door opening once again. 

The two men waited for only the briefest moment before the face of a young women fell before them both. Rhoynar extended the courtesy and bowed in return, unlike the man behind him. Ser Illyn remained completely stationary, two blue eyes scaling the girl from head to toe. She would do. It wasn't at all as he was expecting but it would have to do. He didn't have time to wait. He waved the girl inside and waved his maid out. The young girl darted out the door as if her life depended on it. 
"You're here for one reason. You were both told one thousand deniers for the safe return of what I want. If one of you dies, the other does not get their half." His eyes moved to Rhoynar as if judging his family's potential roots. The man would deny this, of course, his family was noble- now. "You will both go to Niska, beyond the Second East and bring back this." The man pulled open a book older than himself and turned the pages to face them. "This crown is worth more than this kingdom and both of your lives. I suspect six months will be enough. I will pay for your ship across the ocean. One hundred deniers should be enough." He produced a small leather pouch and placed it on the table. The coins inside bounced against each other, producing the jingle that all men felt compelled by.