She had apparently caused a ruckus in the inn. Not that this was something new, Isabeau had a thing for putting her foot in her mouth. Regardless, she was tired of sitting around and waiting, and she was tired of having to deal with everyone's judgments of her and dismissal of their situation. The little town could burn for all she cared. If they were scared of a 'witch' and thought their town was free of all other troubles, they were in for a rude awakening. 

Words were already spoken on the matter, and so she let it be. She leaned over the bar to grab a random bottle and fill her flask up. That would, at the very least, bring her joy on this bitter journey. [color=darkseagreen]"Very well."[/color] There were enough coins on the table from their party to cover whatever costs they had accrued throughout their stay. She had no idea what type of liquor she had swiped, but it would have to do. 

Each had made it clear that they would follow through with this quest, she had only hoped that it wouldn't turn sour and lead to betrayal somewhere down the line. She didn't like having to trust people, unfortunately, she's had to do a lot of that lately. That didn't mean that she stopped sleeping with her axe nearby or the dagger tucked under her pillow. 

with no other words, she moved from her seat and removed herself from the walls of the inn. Her strides were large and swift, if luck were on their side, they would reach the cave by sundown. No interruptions, no stops, no attacks or distractions. But when did luck ever follow her?