[center]Hinterlands, Southmere

[i]Town Between Lothering and Redcliffe Village[/i][/center]

The sun was low in the cloud heavy skies above, the evening air bringing a light and refreshing breeze with it. The light was already fast fading by Kathleen Red Eagle approached the gate entrance of Rossleigh. The only sentry posted there was leaning against one end of the gate, and paid the newcomer little heed, waving her in with a nod. Passing the high gate entrance Kathleen was not surprised to see the lack of people about, judging by the time of day, most townsfolk of the frontier settlements had learned to be well within doors before sunset. Kathleen's heightened senses born of years of living in the wilds of Korcari picked up the activity on the guard towers well enough, however. No doubt the sight of a stranger coming from the south was cause for attention if not alarm. Of course unlike the gate guard, they wouldn’t have seen the crest of the Ash Warriors on her breastplate hidden under her large fur cloak. 

 Still no one molested her as she made her way to the small tavern that served as the towns only drinking hole. With any luck she might obtain a room, a first in too long a time. The building was rather small, hardly worth calling a tavern truly, singly story and with round small windows. The door was so small, or rather Kathleen so tall, she was forced to stoop down to enter proper. The first thing that struck Kathleen as the door shut behind her was the smell. The place stank of alcohol, mead, vomit, and piss. The second was the lack of folks, and those who were present were mostly townsfolk themselves. The Hinterlands were hardly well travelled, but still one would expect quit a few travellers, either a dwaven caravan passing through, for there were few good routes to Denerim, other human merchants or even hunters. 

The place held one table with three men gathered close together engaged in some heated debate. Another lone patron seated on a stool by himself at the main bar. The room quieted a bit at Kathleen's entrance, but soon all returned to their drinks quick enough. Kathleen slowly made her way to the bar and seated herself on a far end stool. The barkeep scowled his face at her approach before spitting to one side and saying. “Ye, can leave de way you came, I don't serve Chasin- Oh! Pardon me madam, I didn't see your crest.” He bowed his head slightly in way of apology. 

Kathleen merely grunted and took her seat, having by now become used to many an ignorant Fereldan in her time outside the Wilds. She nodded toward a keg of ale and the bartender smiled before tapping off a glass for her. As he set it down in front of her he asked. “So, what's an Ash Warrior doing out here in this far flung end of the kingdom?”

“Hunting,” came Kathleen's curt reply. 

“Oh? What ever for? Ain't many deer in these here parts.” the inner keeper asked politely.

Kathleen drained most of her glass in one swig. “Bandits.”

 “Ah, then you must be tracking those cutthroats who've been causing a ruckus these past few months. About time they got what was coming to them. I hear tell they've been rounding up hounds and forcing them to fight in pits. Animals the lot of them to do that to innocent dogs.” The innkeeper spat again. It seemed a habit of his. “Tell you what, I'll give you free room and board for a one night, least I can do for an Ash Warrior- not to mention my earlier rudeness.” 

Kathleen offered him a smile. “That would be kind of you.” 

She would need the rest and time to plan for tomorrow. Though she wouldn't know just how much yet...