Teclos went to the Broken Crown.
Part of him already knew what the answer would be before he even reached the door, but desperation had a way of crushing pride beneath its heel. If there was even a small chance they would help, he had to ask.
The pub was quieter than usual when he entered. It was late afternoon, before the worst of the drinking began, and only a few mercenaries lingered around the tables. Zamas sat in his usual place in the back room, surrounded by smoke, ledgers, and half-empty cups. Falcon leaned against the wall nearby with his arms crossed, while Derrick sat on a chair too small for him, eating something from a wooden bowl.
All three looked up when Teclos approached.
Zamas took one look at his face and sighed.
"What is it, boy?"
Teclos stopped in front of the table.
"I have found a lead."
Falcon's and Derrick's attention shifted, and they both focused on Teclos.
Teclos pulled the folded inventory list from his coat and placed it on the table.
