The Inn was cozy and warm. As usual Rusalka sat on a table in a corner of the inn and ordered a glass of milk and some bread. Her paranoia did not stop there, her blue eyes stared around the establishment watching guests getting in and out. Rusalka attributed this peculiarity to her "strange" profession routine. She had just asked another glass of milk when a group of strangers entered the tavern. Her eyes moved quickly toward the door, enough to realize that they were not only outsiders but nords. She tried to remember the letter she received in Chorrol, but she could not make any connection with the mercenaries. And despite trying to keep discrete, her beauty cheated on her and one of them walked toward her. Although arrogant and confident in her skills, Rusalka knew that she was outnumbered. Smoothly she replied: [b][i]"The same as you, looking for a place to drink and rest,"[/i][/b] she then turned to another Nordic and gave a slight smile, [b][i]"depends on the company."[/i][/b] And, while talking, she was trying to slowly reach her dagger on her waist.