In the Feisty Jelly...
Niklas, being at a loss on what to look for here, turns to Scott for details on the target.
"What did the captain look like?"
"Well, I'm fairly certain he was a person. Yes. Probably. And he had a monkey-shaped pipe, I recall. And a red beard, not to mention red hair! And his hat had a skull on it. He was rather short, I remember, like devious people tend to be. Oh, and he had a sharp sword in a scabbard that he occasionally clutched insecurely. His eyes were like two glowing red hot coals, I recall - had a real intense stare. Dressed like a captain, maybe somewhat swankier than the average one, but easily identifiable."
Having told all this to Niklas, Scott takes a seat at the bar.
"Barkeep! A pint of your finest Arrack!"
"A pint of Arrack? That'll be a gold coin from you, it will. That stuff costs a lot. Imports, ya know."
"I'll consider it! How about a rumor about the state of con artistry in this town?"
"Con artistry? Hm. Well, there's a few in town, methinks, but they mostly rip off tourists for small change. Scum, ya know. What're ya gonna do? Though I do hear that there was some bigger fella in town a while back, dunno if he's left yet."
"Then, which is the cheapest drink this place can offer? I'm quite short of money... damned son of a bitch..." Sigmund says from another corner.
"'Scuse me," the barkeep says to Scott, turning to Sigmund. "1 copper buys ya all the water ya can drink or a pint of the Special. Your choice."
Mark looks around some more for somebody fitting the scammer's description.
After a few minutes of looking over the room, he can say with reasonable certainty that the schmuck isn't here.