The sun fell lower in the sky and evening was upon him. He had passed so many dingy places, he almost thought he would be better foraging for food out of town after all.
He walked into a tavern called the Winged Patron, hoping it would be a decent place to seek some information and perhaps a chance to find some food. The sign boasted that it was the pride of Teltiar, having served the town for centuries. Garinor doubted the claim.
The inside of the tavern was well-kept and quiet. There were enough people there to easily support the business, but they weren’t the rowdy sort that would break into bar fights. These just looked like people who had worked all day and were trying to unwind on their way home. Garinor walked up to the barkeep.
“Whatcha ‘avin’?” said the woman tending the bar. She wore a dark green flowery dress that was dirty in places. Garinor again had the feeling the entire place was trying to come off better than it was.
“I’m looking for a quick way north and maybe a way to earn a bite to eat.”
Her pretty face was marred by a scowl. “We ain’t servin’ beggars.” With a look of disgust, she turned away.
But Garinor was not at a total loss for his efforts. A man in his late twenties overheard his request and walked over to him. “Hey, lad, mebbe I kin help.”
Garinor eyed the man carefully. He had shrewd eyes and a controlled jaw. “How so?”
The man pulled him aside to a quiet corner away from some of the other patrons. “There’s a way to get both o’ whatcha lookin’ for.”
“What do I have to do?”
“A li’l bit o’ work, is all. Nothin’ dangerous and you’re sure enough to do it. I kin set it all up, I kin.”
Garinor hesitated. The man appeared harmless enough, if a little secretive. He wasn’t sure what to do.