Biancca stepped quietly from behind her horse. She had left the feast in the wake of the hob-goblin’s unfortunate demise. Well, demise anyway. Her newfound companions made her a little nervous and she didn’t imagine that the addition of a lot of wine, beer and brandy, was going to make the situation any more desirable. Past experience warned her that she would be wise to be ready for a quick getaway. If this all turned as sour as Marienburg Ale, which it gave every indication it was going to, she wanted to be ready.
 
The next logical step was to check over her horse. The expensive stallion seemed sound enough, she hadn’t pushed him after she had gotten clear of that tangle in Verano. It didn’t do to be caught on an open road with a spent horse. The horse did seem a little restive, probably the simple hay affronted his elevated sense of self worth.
 
The sound of horse's hooves on the road caused her to freeze for a moment. Could it be someone had tracked her and sent a bounty hunter or assassin after her? Feverishly her mind compiled a list of former lovers, jealous wives and disgruntled business partners. It was a depressingly long list for such a young woman. With quiet care she reached into her belt and drew one of the ornate duelling pistols. Snapping open the frisson, she checked the priming and then snapped it shut before gently drawing back the dog's head which held the flint. By this point the newcomer had reached the drawbridge, he didn’t make any immediate effort to enter.
 
He called out in a booming voice harsh and guttural, a man of the empire?  Probably he was another mercenary, come in response to the madman’s summons. The thought of another human eased her misgivings. He might not stay of course, but if he did it would be a significant comfort to her. She had worked with dwarves and even goblins before but another member of her species, besides the enigmatic barbarian, would be welcome.

Creeping to one of the crumbling arrow slits she looked out across the shallow moat. The man was well armored, at least by Tilean standards. His horse looked sturdy as it used to hard gallops as well as long treks. A variety of weapons including a rather complicated looking pistol. Stranger and stranger. His face was, to be frank, a bit of a disappointment, he had obviously been burned or scared at some point and the resulting look was quite ominus. She considered again if this man might be a bounty hunter. Maybe, but she doubted he had come so far for her.

Cautiously she tucked the pistol back into her belt and stepped into the doorway so she was silhouetted against the doorway. She couldn’t help but pose a little dramatically.

[b]“Hello Senor!”[/b] she called to the horseman.

[b]“There are a few souls here, though I won't vouch for their condition,”[/b] she held up her hands indicating she was weaponless. 

[b]“If you are here for the offer of employment, come on in and join us.”[/b]