In a small town in the middle of practically nowhere, all is quiet. The sun had just went down and the entire sky had just shifted into a pitch black, save for a bit of orange-purple tinge which still lined parts of the horizon. The town had more or less fallen asleep, going dormant as soon as the sun did. The only night life that was around had been inside a small tavern where various men, mostly travellers, had to stay for the night.
The tavern was dubbed the 'Rusted Spoon'. It was neither a very nice looking place nor was even very new. In fact, it looked as though the tavern were older than the town itself. The wood covering the walls were rotted and tinted green; they even gave off a foul smell to anyone who stood close enough. The windows, though the glass was new, the frame around it looked as though it were there for centuries. The floorboards creaked and some weren't even present, showing the ground below. Various nails stuck out through the tavern, making it a great hazard for unsuspecting drunkards. And while the place was rather shoddy, the atmosphere was still great and people enjoyed themselves.
The place was illuminated by a cheaply hung metal chandelier, the wax of the candles dripping over the floor where it swung. Alone in a corner sat a young woman. She seemed clad in leather armor judging by the way her clothing made a clunking noise as she moved, though her entirety was concealed by a long cloak. The only two things giving away her femininity were her breasts, which made two noticeable lumps over her clothing; and her long red hair, which one slightly hung out of her hood.
In one hand, she held a paper near her face. The woman appeared to be reading it under the dim light of the tavern. In her other hand was her drink- nothing but a cup of the cheapest ale. She shook the cup a bit, signalling for a bar wench to fetch her another glass.
As the wench returned, the cloaked lady reached into her cloak two hand the wench a few gold coins. The woman then returned to examining her paper.
The tavern was dubbed the 'Rusted Spoon'. It was neither a very nice looking place nor was even very new. In fact, it looked as though the tavern were older than the town itself. The wood covering the walls were rotted and tinted green; they even gave off a foul smell to anyone who stood close enough. The windows, though the glass was new, the frame around it looked as though it were there for centuries. The floorboards creaked and some weren't even present, showing the ground below. Various nails stuck out through the tavern, making it a great hazard for unsuspecting drunkards. And while the place was rather shoddy, the atmosphere was still great and people enjoyed themselves.
The place was illuminated by a cheaply hung metal chandelier, the wax of the candles dripping over the floor where it swung. Alone in a corner sat a young woman. She seemed clad in leather armor judging by the way her clothing made a clunking noise as she moved, though her entirety was concealed by a long cloak. The only two things giving away her femininity were her breasts, which made two noticeable lumps over her clothing; and her long red hair, which one slightly hung out of her hood.
In one hand, she held a paper near her face. The woman appeared to be reading it under the dim light of the tavern. In her other hand was her drink- nothing but a cup of the cheapest ale. She shook the cup a bit, signalling for a bar wench to fetch her another glass.
As the wench returned, the cloaked lady reached into her cloak two hand the wench a few gold coins. The woman then returned to examining her paper.