"Barkeep," Felidae called, and gestured to the Nord working the bar. Smiling hospitably, Kleppr dropped the dishcloth he was using to scrub the surface and moved over to her, leaning in close to block out the noisy hubbub. "You need anything, lass?" He said jovially. "Just ask and I'll see what I can do."
Without speaking, Felidae produced a rolled up parchment from the leather saddle bag slung over her shoulder, and spread it out on the table. Kleppr leaned in to inspect it, trying to ignore Felidae's intense stare.
Staring up at him from the parchment was the leering hand-drawn face of a middle-aged Wood Elf, covered in crude war paint and sporting a crazed grin.
'WANTED
Faldil the Bosmer
for murder, rape, theft, arson and extortion
5'9" with brown hair
Last known location in the Rift
3000 septim reward for the capture or destruction of this man'
Kleppr finished reading and returned the bounty hunter's gaze, shaking his head dismally. "Sorry, lass," he said. "If I could help you, then I would. But I know nothing about this scum."
Felidae paused and searched his face for any hint of a lie, but upon finding none she nodded and returned the poster to her bag. She knew when people weren't telling the truth, but the Nord seemed honest enough in his response. It seemed as though this was going to be one of her more complicated targets.
Sighing, she resumed the wait for her drink, occasionally glancing over at the scarred Breton sitting beside her. He looked rugged enough to be a seasoned traveler, but did he know anything about the bounty she was chasing? Heck, he could be after the Bosmer himself, and if that was the case then she was probably in for some hard competition. Felidae bit her lip in agitation as she weighed the two possibilities.
But surely that was better than risking the chance of getting no information at all? And at the end of the day, she was one of the best bounty hunters in the land; she didn't really have much to fear. Although, there was always a first time...
Eventually, after some consideration, Felidae turned to the Breton and coughed a few times to get his attention, whilst hoping against hope that the plan wouldn't backfire horribly.