You walk briskly toward the inn, lifting your skirt slightly to keep the hem clear. Your heart pounds, but you keep your breathing steady, your pace purposeful but not panicked. 

The footsteps behind you continue at the same deliberate rhythm. They don't speed up. They don't slow down. Whoever it is, they're either not trying to hide their presence, or your quickened pace hasn't tipped them off.

The distance to the door feels like miles, but finally you push through the swinging doors. They swing shut behind you with a soft creak, and the warmth and noise of the tavern envelops you immediatley.

The Panther's Rest is alive with activity. Humans make up most of the crowd, but you spot a dwarf arguing good-naturedly with a halfling near the bar, a tiefling laughing at something her companion said. The woman on stage finishes her song to enthusiastic applause and calls for requests. People shout suggestions, clinking their mugs togeather.

Nobody looks afraid. Nobody looks over their shoulder.

Your attention is quickly drawn to the bar, where a half-orc woman commands the space with practiced ease. She's enormous, her deep gray skin gleaming in the lamplight, her auburn-strawberry blonde hair rising in a voluminous cloud around her head. She moves with suprising grace for her size, sliding frothing mugs of beer across the counter without spilling a single drop.

She spots you almost immediately, her keen eyes taking in your fine dress, your wide-eyed expression, the way you're still catching your breath. She wipes her hands on her apron and moves toward you with surprising speed.

[b]"Well hello there, sugar!"[/b] Her voice is warm and welcoming, with a drawling accent you've never heard before. [b]"Welcome on in to the Panther's Rest, finest tavern [i]and[/i] inn this side of the Thornwood. Name's Gerta."[/b] She gives you a quick once-over, not unkind. [b]"You look like you could use somethin' strong, or maybe a room, or maybe both. How can I help ya, darlin'?"[/b]

You glance back toward the entrance, trying to spot whoever was following you. The swinging doors rock gently on their hinges. Three people stumble out, laughing, clearly well into their cups. A man with his arms slung around two women, all of them singing off-key as they disappear into the night.

You squint, trying to see past them into the darkness beyond. For just a moment, you think you catch something. Blueish-gray smoke, maybe? But the contrast between the warm lamplight inside and the darkness outside makes it hard to tell. It could have been nothing. A trick of the light. Or your nerves playing tricks on you.

[hr]
[b]What do you do?[/b]