The tavern door opens and Lord Markelhay enters the room. He is tall, good looking, and dressed in fine robes befitting his station of Lord Mayor of Fallcrest; his hair is perfect. Four lackeys follow in his wake. He looks around, spots the companions, and walks over.
"Greetings, my friends," he smiles, revealing a gleaming set of teeth. "It has been reported to me that you gentlemen have been meeting with certain persons of interest to the town council. There is a movement afoot to undo the civilized harmony we have achieved here in Fallcrest; indeed in the Nentir Vale as a whole. The members of this group are, I am sorry to say, anti-progress, and work to undermine the authority of the various governments, from Winterhaven to the Harkenwold. I understand that a certain item was being transported here by a dwarf named--" he turns to one of his retainers, who steps forward and says, "Traevus, my lord."
"Ah, yes, the 'merchant dwarf'." He muses, "We have had trouble with this peddler before. No matter." He looks at the companions again. "I have it on good authority that this Traevus has hired you to retrieve the item. I will offer you double what he promised to pay you to bring it to me, instead. Just bring it to the keep at the top of the hill when you return." He flashes another dazzling smile, motions to his lackeys, and with a contemptuous look at the barkeep, leaves the alehouse.