The two men and one woman seated before her wear nondescript traveler's clothes. On deeper inspection though, they share a demeanor clearly not quite right for the place.  It's far too sober, and too dangerous.  They each have a stein of ale placed before them, though none are taking draughts.

They introduce themselves: The man with the mustache and teased brown hair, “Karkosa”, the woman with the terrifying Aasimar eyes, “Neollo”,  and the fat-man-who-is-clearly-the-cleric, “Grannik”.  They don’t extend her any courtesy beyond speaking their names, and they look at her in a manner deeply unsettling.  There's a quality of restrained alarm that hangs about them.

She smiles nervously.  She can’t help but pattern-fill what their thoughts must be behind those looks:  

Why are you the one they sent us?  Does this mean we are all disposable?  What is going on here?

When she first saw the size of the envelope waiting at her dormitory room door that afternoon, she had an immediate inkling as to what it was.  It had a garishly large wax seal, taking up more than a third of the width of the paper, and an intricate design in the relief of a lion’s head with full mane.  

Some powerful secret society must have taken notice of her and desired to use her skills to commit interplanar crimes. And as a fashionable young lady endowed with every possible gift, save wealth, she was absolutely ready to join them in a relationship of intrigue and profit.

Inside the envelope were enough silver coins for room and board for a month and a note whose very first line promised an additional three times that sum for prompt and faithful completion of solicitor services to be described therein.

“I am to ask each of you in turn,” she says.  “You each received instructions to meet here with a list of spells to prepare.  For us to continue to discuss the operation, you are to state to me the following: ‘I have prepared all the spells listed in my brief.’ Karkosa.”

They each repeat the line exactly.  

Again, that look.  Something about that attitude within this tavern is positively eerie.  It’s as if they are treating their situation as one of maximum danger, one in which they are about to be ambushed.  Grannik wears a wide smile on his face, and of the three, seems to be the one most frequently scanning the room. 

The sound of a platter crashing to the ground rings out, and someone nearby lets out a loud guffaw of laughter.

She continues. “I have a few questions to ask you.  Does any one of you have prior experience with any of the others?”

Karkosa and Neollo exchange looks.  There is a quirk of the lips in Karkosa’s expression, and then Neollo nods.  Karkosa says, “She and I are familiar with one another.  I am unfamiliar with Grannik.”

“Grannik, have you had intercourse with either of these two in the past?”

He smiles and regards her with his full attention.  “Intercourse?  Not to my knowledge.  I usually have a good memory for that sort of thing.” 

Drovna says, “Karkosa and Neollo.  If you accept the job for which we are gathered, you will be asked to swear that you will pursue completion of the stated objectives at all costs, including at risk of death to you or your comrades.  Will your familiarity with one another prevent you from making such a vow?  Neollo?”

Drovna has an absurd degree of practice in carefully remembering who has been addressed first, and alternating her questions to end every encounter having shown perfect equality of deference to all parties.  It's one of a handful of the basic competencies of an Advocate, and one she had begun to train long before matriculating.

“No.” says Neollo. 

“Karkosa, will your past knowledge of Neollo prevent you from making such a vow?”

“It will not.”

“Next question.  Concerning the list of religious and fraternal orders you each received, if you are unwilling to act in secret against any of the groups mentioned, you are to exclude yourself from this operation.  I am to have each of you state to me:  ‘I vow that I am willing though not committed to acting against the interests of any of the organizations mentioned in my brief’.  Grannik.”

They each repeat the vow.

Neollo yawns and idly makes a gesture with her hand.  A fist-sized flame materializes above her open palm, and then small gouts of spitfire leap from it to each of the lit candles.  The individual strands of fire seem to be controlled, and they precisely burn off the irregular marks of wax drip that cling to each candle, leaving four perfectly round cylinders in their wake, before extinguishing themselves in an instant.

Yes.  That is clearly something that normal wizards do with cantrips.  No cause at all for alarm.  Drovna catches herself looking up for the barkeep, hoping for someone to make eye contact with.

She clears her throat.  “Next up.  Concerning location: You each hold a note with thirty numbered place names in Sigil.  You are now to open those papers without revealing them to me.  Please do so now.

“Good.  The location of the operation is number five on your lists.  Please destroy these parchments at your earliest convenience without revealing them to anyone.”

They all promptly cease touching the papers, and a moment later, each of the three crumbles into dust.   Drovna is not even sure who cast the spell.

“Right,”  she says, and then withdraws two items from her bag, one a note on cardstock with small and precise pen strokes and one a thick wizard’s spell scroll bound in a ribbon.  

Drovna says, “We may now proceed.  These are the tasks you are to perform.  I will read the instructions twice and allow you to ask me any questions if you believe I may be able to answer them for you.  Understand that to receive payment for successful completion of this operation, you will be required to vow before court magician that you have understood the full import of the instructions and can testify to their satisfactory fulfillment.