The ageless blond elf walked confidently into Smuggler's Haven, flanked on either side by Warriors of the Radiant Heart. The shady tavern in the depths of Makou was crowded at this time of night, just about every seat taken by some random denizen of the outlaw city. Stopping just inside the door, he started to peer around, searching the faces that surrounded him.
Almost immediately, a young boy slipped through the crowd beside the elf and his entourage. Clad in rough spun, nondescript clothing, he couldn't have been more than four and ten years old. Motioning to the trio, he turned his back on them and started to slowly push through the masses, cutting a path towards the back corner of the bar. The soldiers followed behind the boy, moving smoothly between the patrons until they reached a table against the back wall.
The massive wooden table, covered in half burned candles and scattered with parchment, was occupied by just a single person. His tattooed face bathed in the light of a cluster of candles, he seemed absorbed in the document resting in front of him.
'Sire, may I present sir Crovax Brightmantle of the Order of the Radiant Heart,' the young boy said, puffing up his chest and looking straight ahead.
Looking up slowly, his cold eyes seemed to take in every detail of the people in front of him. Finally looking at the boy, he nodded slowly.
'Thank you, Morigon. You may go,' he said as he slid a coin across the table. The boy scooped up the coin, beamed brightly, and quickly disappeared back into the crowd.
'Please, have a seat.'
