The market was trying her patience.  The smell of food, an acrid scent to her now, the inane prattle of the vendors pushing their wares in her face.  Finally she gave up and just decided to head for the nearest tavern.  Her hangover was killing her, yes, but the best cure for alcohol was always more she thought.

"The Dock Inn", the sign above said.  A shanty of sorts perched beside the ever rolling sea.  Twas bound to be full of sailors and adventurers who were coming off the boats, maybe a few mercenaries who had traveled here to help out the cause.  Rebellion, such a thing Ashana understood.  Why would one just accept the yoke when man was meant to be free, unbridled and unattended?  Ah, but she was not one for the politics of the royals.  Leave that to them.

[@EldarionI]


But there was one thing the rebellion was good for.  Opportunity.

The rebellion had brought in mercenaries from all over to fight for profit.  Surely their pockets were fat with coin.  Ah, the spoils of war, spoils Ashana could easily plunder off these drunken, lonely men with a just a wink and a smile.  And of course...she could just slit their throats while they were...[i]distracted[/i].

First step into the bar, the smell hit her all at once, ale, cheap ale too, culminating with the crackling pine logs roasting in the hearth and the musk of the rowdy men as they drank and clanked their tankards, sharing many a bawdy joke or a sea shanty.  Whenever the wenches strolled by them carrying drinks and roasted meats, a firm smack on the bottom they would receive.

The red haired woman glanced around.  Certainly one of these fools had to be drunk off his arse she figured, an easy target.