A well-groomed, well-dressed, middle aged man enters the inn with trepidation. He glances about, picking distractedly at his comb-over. Spying Nurlan, he strides purposefully towards him, casting a single glance at the bar.
He pulls up a chair next to the bard and begins speaking. “Ah, Nurlan Naibi. My name is Edgar Vossinvinger. I’ve, er, heard you play in Monemvassia. I represent the royal family there. There has been a disturbance recently. I was rather hoping you could see fit to return and help us set it straight. You and your friends were ever so effective against that goblin menace, and, when one needs some outside help, a good man is hard to find. I’ve been authorized to pay up to 1000 gps each for a small party upon the successful completion of this little project.” He looks hopeful, then starts as he notices the purple cloak. But says nothing of it for now.