The Shiny Backscratcher Beckons.

The summons from Zane sounded like music to Tarmen. Glad as he was that the messenger had found him while he was actually working, to deal with the bastard knight was much easier and preferred over any amount of this menial labor.
Even better if it involved a mission. The gnawing in the back of his mind had only gotten worse, even getting to his usual habits at the Hare. Smashing tables and busting faces had lost their usual appeal; it didn’t solve the plague in his thoughts and neither did the cheap piss water.
He stopped his inner monologue before it soured the possible good mood. He still needed to see what the arrogant prick needed from him now.
Waving the messenger to lead, he didn’t bother freshening himself before making his way to Zane.