Rune stopped in front of a large shabby looking inn, her hickory brown hair

hanging down her back in a tight braid waving slightly as she halts. "Wolves' Den" was

written in crude script upon a dark oval sign hanging above the door, below the name was

a black wolf's head. The whole place had an ominous feel, ignoring this, Rune opened

the heavy oak door and entered.

Rune soon found herself inside a large dark room. Rough wooden tables were

scattered throughout the room surrounded by rickety chairs. The tavern's patrons were

mostly rough looking men dressed in dark clothes drinking liberally from tall tankards off

hard liquor. Rune makes her way through the crowds ignoring the lewd looks the drunken

men are sending her, she walks up to the bar.

Behind the bar, a short heavyset bald man leans upon the counter laughing

raucously as the young man before him falls off his stool.

"What kind of man are ya? Can 't even hold one drink."

The bartender laughs again and then turns to face Rune who's waiting rather

impatiently.

"Whadda ya want, wench?"

The man asks in a gruff manner. Rune gives him a condescending glare before replying.

"I'm looking for Chrysanthe." She answers in a clipped tone.

"Never heard of 'er." The man shoots back quickly.

"Don't lie to me, little man." Rune growls, the bar tender frowns dangerously, stretching

himself up to his full height. Rune nearly laughs as he inclines his head to reach her

shoulders.

"Watch who your insulting, whore." He snarls at her. Suddenly, Rune leaps

over the bar and grasps him by his shirt with her right hand while holding a small dagger

to his neck with her left as she shoves him against the wall behind him.

"And you better watch your tongue, little man, or you're quite likely to loose it. Now, one

more time, I'm looking for Chrysanthe, where is she?" Rune asks her tone icy as her jade

green eyes drill into the man's startled brown ones.

He glances quickly around the room, searching the crowd for assistance. The

patrons continue drinking and chatting, apparently not overly concerned about

their bar tender's predicament. Feeling the cold blade pressing harder against his skin, he

sees no other option and opens his mouth to reply.

"In the back, behind the kitchen." He tells her between clenched teeth.

She lets him go and shoves him away, as she heads through the door behind the bar, she

hears his parting shout.

"She won't be pleased!"

Few words, yet they carried a threatening weight, ominous despite his tone of desperate

pride.

Rune feels a cold shiver, but ignores it and continues walking.