"So you want to tuck another favor into my belt, do you?" Corrin's round face grinned across the table.

That happy, probably won a bet in one of the contests

"Not quite Corrin. Just following up on that lead you got me from earlier. Something about it I thought you might want to know."

Corrin raised an eyebrow. "I doubt it'll be big enough to pay back a favor."

Vargoth shook his head. "Nah, just something I noticed. Doesn't mean much for me, but you might be able to use it better."

Corrin took a long gulp of beer, encouraging Vargoth onward with a hand gesture.

"Those Smugglers weren't from Eliaster."

"'Course Not." Corrin chuckled. "Not many smugglers from the city."

"No, I mean the whole Kingdom. They were putting on an accent to try and blend in, but there were some clues that gave it away."

Corrin raised his eyebrows at this. "Oh, well that is a bit more interesting then, isn't it. I knew they came all the way down from the sea, but..." he trailed off in thought. "Did any of them happen to have lots of scars on their body?"

"Couldn't tell with the smugglers. They were pretty tight up." Vargoth sipped his beer. "But at least one of the mages who attacked the City did. Saw them myself." And those two groups seemed closely related as well.

"Likely Kagoati then." A tidbit for a tidbit, fair trade. He'll have more use out of that, but amiable relations is good.

With nothing more to say, Vargoth stood up and walked out of the Salted fish, moving in towards the shells. The tavern he walked into was nothing special, although there was a group of players in the corner with considerably better taste in music than the pretender who played in Bella's.

Third shell sure has better beer than Banlew, I can tell you that much. Vargoth savored it as he listens to the buzz of conversation around him.

After about an hour of drinking, eating, and eavesdropping, Vargoth began feeling like he was being watched. A lesser man might have shrugged that off, or a superstitious one blame some far seeing eye of a witch passing over him, but Vargoth was well familiar with that feeling. Admittedly, he mostly caused it in other people, but living in the Banlew few people are left to themselves all the time.

The most telling sign, however, was that Vargoth couldn't pin down the source of that feeling. Only one person I know who can pull that off

With a soft sigh at having been unable to locate his observer, Vargoth waved over a barmaid and ordered another drink. When it came, he set it down at the empty seat across from his, and continued to sip from his own half full mug.

She'll know that for the invitation that it is.