You step into the bustling afternoon street with no goal in mind other than to find a more agreeable tavern; a mean-eyed bartender, who served sour ale at an exorbitant price, ran the place you just exited. As you stride down the dusty avenue, you spy a ragged girl approaching you. She appears to be on the edge of her teen years. Her lank, brown hair hangs limply across her dirty face. Her gray, homespun dress is tattered and stained. Most remarkably you notice her eyes are two different colors: one subdued hazel and the other piecing jade She clutches a cheap-looking musical pipe in her left hand and a leather pouch in her right. The girl thrusts the pouch into your hands, gives a short nod and then runs off. You soon lose sight of her in the crowd.