Old hatreds die hard

The Tavern was smokey and dark, the smell of old rushes buried beneath layers of newer drifted up and mixed with the scents of pipe tobacco, the stench of unwashed bodies and sweat stained leather. The table she sat at was sticky with the same low quality ale that half filled her glass. With her back against the corner of the room, one eye on the door and the other keeping a surreptitious watch on the other occupants of the room she took a swallow of the terrible ale before taking a moment to pull her hood further forward, no one took notice, anonymity in a place like this was common. A passing drunkard stopped to peer at her but a hand dropped down to her belted weapon was enough to send him on his way.

Her contact was late, not truly unusual but today it had her on edge, a gut reaction, something niggling between the back brain and the undermind. Perhaps it was simply too many empty leads, too many lies or tall tales, her main objective lay incomplete after all but she wasn't entirely empty handed after her long search, thoughts turning to the pouch hidden behind her back under her cloak.

A crash at the the other corner detracted her from her thoughts, harsh muffled voices and a sudden cry of pain and the thump of a body crashing to the floor drew her attention for a moment before she went back to her scan of the room, someone winning a touch too much at dice, part of the background in a place like this. Her eyes swivelled to the door as it crashed open, framed by the light seeping in through thick smoke was an uncomfortable looking messenger from the local governance. She quickly made her way to the bar ignoring the jeers and catcalls, eyes flitting from place to place but never settling too long, paying too much attention was dangerous in a place like this.
A few whispered words, a handful of coins and a scroll passed to the bartender and she was gone as quickly as she came, catcalls chasing her out the bar. After she was gone, the hulking bartender squeezed his bulk from behind the bar and with a light step, surprising for a man of his size, walked over to a noticeboard nailed to the far wall. Rummaging around his belt, he withdrew a hammer, further rummaging yielded a nail and a couple of swings later and a new notice was up for all to see.

"Hey Keep, what's the latest?" an anonymous member of the crowd asked loudly, the big man snorted in disgust before replying "Someone's looking for some highborn tart, no idea why they'd be looking here but apparently the message has been sent to every bar in the area. Not gonna complain about free coin though" there was a rumble of laughter from around the room as he patted his coin pouch theatrically before making his way back behind the bar. Before she could investigate farther, the door slid open again, the laughter cut off as another person entered the bar, after a moment the normal din of the room started up again but she felt her insides clench in anticipation, her contact had finally arrived. He glaced around the room before walking over to the bar, after an exchange of coins he made his way over to her table with a drink in hand.
"Is this seat taken?" he asked in a low voice, "feel free" she replayed with a wave to the chair opposite, the nondescript man sat down. "My.." catching himself, eyes darting he continued "Mistress, I've been unable to secure the information you were looking for" he continued in a low voice "however I believe you should be aware of something that has recently came to light..." with those words he slid a piece of folded parchment over to her, she unfolded it, fairly standard stuff, probably the same as the one now adorning the noticeboard of this very bar, what made her eyebrows raise was the subject matter, namely herself, with a reward for information on her whereabouts. Carefully Hazel refolded the parchment, removing a pouch from her belt she slid it over to the man opposite. "Good work, continue with your current task, I'll be out of town so contact me the usual way if anything else interesting comes up" he scooped up the pouch and made it disappear about himself before nodding in replying, "good luck and fair travel" he said in a low voice as she stood and gathered up her pack, nodding to him she exited the bar into the muddy street beyond, it was time for Hazel D'Ark to head home.