"I have no idea who this man is," the halfling answered excitedly,"never seen him in my life! You have my great thanks, Madame Dragonborn," he continued, and gave her a deep, theatrical bow. "Ladies and gentlemen, kindly give my protectors a round of applause!" he requested, and they obliged, though not with any great enthusiasm. 

All the while, the man on the Tavern's floor groaned and cursed them.

The City Watch arrived a few minutes later, and though at first glance the scene was not favorable for the dragonborn, the testimony of the various eyewitnesses there was enough for them to cart the assailant away and leave the dragonborn and the gnome unharassed. His companion slinked away into the crowd after answering a few questions, clearly not happy with the situation but not at all interested in pressing the matter further against the dragon-woman who had shattered his friend's knee with such ease. 

As the matter resolved itself, a City Watchman, a dwarven woman Durwith was acquainted with by the name of Inga Ironpike, approached the dwarf. She was shaking her head exasperatedly. 

"Got news from the gates," she said in greeting, "goblins just raided another caravan down from Whitewood, kidnapped a little girl not half a league from the city. And the captain--may that man be thrice damned--still won't send us after them." Captain Gerald Mott of the Teresian City Watch had his reasons, of course. There were too few watchmen to send them off beyond the city walls and into the wilds to chase goblins through the woods, but that made it none the better. Keeping the rule of law was a bitter business, and it showed on her face.

[hr]
Graham Douglas pushed the door of Coria's Inn open and entered, stepping across and into the Dockyard District brothel. Coria, a beautiful tiefling who was neither young nor old, greeted him with a typical, flowery welcome, suggestive of the pleasures he could find within the walls of her establishment. But he was here on business. 

"I need to speak to One-Eye," he answered curtly, and she nodded, dropping the facade of charming madame. 

"Same room as always," she said. Graham nodded, slid her a silver half-mark, and made for the stairs. 

Coria's Inn was not a high end establishment. He would never find a nobleman in here, nor any nobleman's daughter, but Coria had a sense of decor. The red, white, and pink satins and silks that decorated the brothel gave it a plush, rich feeling. You could almost forget it was by the Docks, were it not for the faint smell of the sea that could never quite be kept out of the buildings in this area of the city. 

He passed several women of the night onn his way to the last room on the left and opened the door. There, he found One-Eye.

Jaska Selley, wanted for highway robbery, theft, and on suspicion of murder, stood at the dresser, quite naked save for the black patch over his left eye. A woman lay in the bed, fast asleep under silken sheets, head laid on a fine feather pillow. He was pouring deep red wine from an elaborate looking glass decanter into a goblet of fine Yvennese ceramic. 

"Graham," he greeted him. The highwayman averted his eyes. Jaska set the decanter down and dressed himself for his guest's sake, at least up to the waist. Graham looked up to look him in the eyes--or the eye, at least. Jaska was a handsome half-elf, his one good eye sky blue, his ears coming gently to points, his face clean shaven, or rather devoid of any facial hair at all save his eyebrows. With a hat on, it was the only indication that he might be anything but human.

"Jaska, I have a favor to ask," Graham said. "I've got a job, with some good pay in it for any men you can spare for it."

"What kind of job?" Jaska asked, voice dripping with disinterest. Graham explained the situation, about the dark elf in the alley, the quest, the key. And at the end of it Jaska shrugged and drained his goblet of wine. "You mean to tell me," he started, pouring another glass as he spoke, "that an invisible elf in an alleyway gave you a quest, to go on an adventure deep into the Boarwood to recover a key, and your reward for completing this task is . . . whatever you find?" he says, clarifying. Graham nodded slowly. "That's a shit job, Graham."

"Well, he seemed convinced there'd be a good payout for doing it," Graham replied, but his voice was uncertain even as he tried to justify his choice.

"No, he convinced [i]you[/i] there'd be a good payout for doing it," Jaska One-Eye said cuttingly. "You're free to go chase this key or whatnot, but I'm not wasting my men's time with anything of that nature. If you'd like a real job, though, you know, the kind that pays in coin instead of promises, I've got an alternative offer."

"Oh?"

Jaska smiled. Well, it was more of a smirk. Jaska did not smile. "A heist for the history books."

Graham was interested.