The pair walk down to the what was once the old docks, now the underbelly of Cathedral. They stop in front of a dingy looking, half buried old bar. Long abandoned, the sign so rusted, the name is unreadable.
(Carn) "Nobody remembers the name of the place. Commonly called The Rust Heap. Intel says the guy we're looking for is a frequent gambler here. This isn't a legal bar mind you, but the guard can never keep them out. It's your typical crook bar, just under no circumstances order anything here accept the whiskey. And only do that if your feeling healthy and adventurous for about half a week. Let me do the talking, I've got a mercenary reputation, for the ones who know me."
The two walk in, the murk of the room taking a moment for their eyes to get used to.
(Carn) "There in the corner, no don't turn your head. He's here. Even in this dump, nobody likes him. Apparently he's a suspected cheat, but nobody has been able to prove it. You any good at poker?"
