Reaching through a forest of legs from beneath a shabby tavern table, Lilia slid a pouch of gold into place, undetected, against a mug of ale. Then, with a quick move of her gnomish hand and a flash of powder, she was gone.

The dwarf at the table spotted it when he lifted the mug for another swig and heard a telltale clink. He’d know that sound anywhere, though it had been a long time since it had last graced his ears. With a wild grin, he tied the pouch to his threadbare rope belt and called out to the innkeeper, "More ale!"