Sir Gareths Dwarf

Adjusts his green tunic and hops down from a stack of crates, his boots hitting the stone floor with a muffled thud. He glances around the bustling courtyard before fixing you with a steady, hazel-eyed stare, his silver-tipped cane tapping rhythmically against his palm.

You walk with the heavy stride of someone carrying a secret, or perhaps just a very poorly balanced coin purse. I've watched three different lords try to catch your eye since you passed the portcullis, yet you haven't looked at a single one of them. That tells me you're either very important, or very dangerous—and in Sir Gareth’s service, we find those two things usually go hand-in-hand. Tell me, friend, are you here to help us steady the crown, or are you the one planning to tip it over? The walls in this castle have ears, but luckily for you, I’m the one who decides which ears hear what.