Norston rubs the red stubble on his cheek before attempting to flag down one of the waitress's for his first, and only, tankard of ale he'll have before taking the job as well as a decent meal. He reflects on the events leading to this moment, and how his most recent year of employment had been roughing up, or if they seemed more trouble than they were worth, could only count three such ones, kill the target he was sent after. This marked the first time he'd be working as a part of a team and he wanted to know why.

"What's gotten us all here? What's our interest in this?"

A glass of Fallan and a plate of cheese rolls the half-elf orders when the flagged down waitress arrives. Colt leans back in his chair, arms up behind his head. Relax, we'll find out soon enough he answers Norston.

The waitress takes Colts order and looks at Norston and says " What will it be for you?"

"Braised Minotaur with Mushrooms and one pint of Askarus Ale," Norston said. His mind returned to the table slightly frustrated that the half breed didn't know. Then again he seemed a child by Dwarven years, maybe only barely an adult by human if his growing grasp of age of other races based on appearance was getting any better.

Had the room been secure he would have let out at least small tidbit he been told, but not knowing who in Demon's Run right now could be trusted to not pass on the details of this job to an enemy of the Angelic Shadows, he kept quiet about the Gilded Club for now.

As the waitress writs down the order a young looking woman walks over and introduces herself as Mirella. Before the waitress can walk away a third person approaches and says to the waitress "A glass of moonshine and put everyone's order on my tab."

The man moves so you can see him better. He stands roughly at 6'0 with light brown hair and brown eyes. He a twinkle in his eye. His speech suggest that he grew up on the streets but still educated. He then sits down across from Colt. "I'm Marcus Revlin. I'm sure all of you have heard about the burning of the Gilded Club. Well, you three have been tasked to look into the matter, the boss feels that it was foul play. This is also your trial, meaning that if you screw this up or bring shame in any manner to the guild you are out."

The waitress returns with everyone's food and drink. Marcus takes a sip and continues speaking "If you need to contact me for any reason, leaves a message with who ever is behind the bar and it will get to me. Any questions?"

What makes anyone think it was foul play? Who use to own the the Gilded Club? Colt takes a bite of the cheese, nut and vegetable mixture, followed by a quick sip of the wine.

"Is it truly safe to speak freely here?" While meeting in the tavern was better than some meeting places he had been accustomed to, he still was leery of strange ears.

Marcus takes another sip before speaking "We used to own the Gilded Club, it was nice bit of coin that came in via it. As to why, it's not every day that a brothel burns down to the ground now it is? And yes,it's fine that we speak openly here. Any other questions?"

Norston grunts as a way of saying "alright," before taking the tankard in his right hand. He takes a moment to inhale the scent of the brew and savors a first sip. With his left he takes a fork in hand skewering a mushroom which soon joins the first sip. A small piece still between his clenched back teeth he says, "Very well,"

He swallows and continues, "Used to own? Deed change hands?"

"Well it did burn down, i guess we could calm to own smoldering rubble..but it ain't the same is it?"

A bite of Minotaur steak soon is washed down with another drink of ale. "Not the same. I'm still reading things into your words that aren't there though," He cuts off another bite of meat and grunts again as he gets it between his teeth. Not that it sounds any different then the one before.

He speaks again slightly agitated this time "The Gilded Club before it was burned down was owned and operated by the guild. Now the boss wants you three to look into it and see what's what then report back. You do this task successfully and you become full members in good standing. Which means a number of things that i'm not at liberty to say until you after you pass your trial. But if you screw it up in some fashion then you're out of the guild."

Mirella listens to the mission briefing, then quickly decides the rest of the man talk is about as interesting as a dried piece of dung. As the others bandy words,the teenage girl yawns ad twirls a lock of wavy red hair. "Burned down club...look at it...got it." She scowls at the moonshine, the steak, and looks to the door, before turning back to Marcus with a smile that is mirrored in green eyes, "Of course we'll take care of it; these boys just want to extend your hospitality."

She gets up, "Well, the trail won't get warmer, ey?"

The idea of investigating the brothel is more than a little exciting. Not the poking through the debris bit...that would make her crimson dress lose it's shimmer. But interviewing the whores would provide Mirella with the opportunity to ask some questions she'd always wondered about.

Colt motions for the eager teenage girl to sit down. You may be willing to walk into the situation blind, but that's not how I work. He takes another sip of wine. Who operated the club? Where can we find this person? He takes another bite of cheese, before continuing. Fires start occasionally, usually a lantern hitting the floor when people get wild. Don't catch it in time or panic and the fire spreads. There's got to be a reason the boss thinks the fire was set intentionally.

The Dwarf grunts once again moving the fork and knife between his calloused finger-tips. He lets his ears do some work, letting himself decide if his co-workers on this job are competent. Also he intentionally neglects to tell Mr. Revlin that he had misunderstood the meaning of his word just as Norston had in reverse with him.

No sense in wasting words that carry the conversation nowhere.

Mirella sighs deeply and flops gracelessly down on a chair. "Boring...she mumbles not quite under her breath. Like anyone could withhold information from her if she really wanted it. Adults could be so droll at times. Well, she'd let the airbag ask his questions. Mirella looks about the room, trying to make eye contact with anyone that might amuse her.

Marcus looks at colt and says "You'll have to get used to it, as i have stated this your trial, part of it is to see how well you handle something with little to no information. Now as much fun as it has been talking to you folks, I have other matters to attend to. Like i said earlier, if you need to contact me, leave a message with whoever is behind the bar." Marcus stands up and heads out of the taveren

"Don't worry," Mirella calls after Marcus. "I'll take charge."
She looks at her two companions with a self-satisfied smile. "Are we done 'planning' or can we get to work now?" She rises and smooths down her dress. "If there's any talking or thinking to be done, let me handle it. If I need something...or someone...bludgeoned or smashed, I'll let you know."

She rises and beckons over her shoulder as she exits, "Come now.."

Mumbling through the last mouthful of steak Norston grumbles, "Phewl ike em a am bebe edder," With one last bit in his mug he washes down the last bit. "Any chance you want to see what this is about?" he asks Colt. As he waits for the half-elf's response he pulls a small green sprig out of a pouch and sticks it in his mouth.