The Green Gander Inn and Tavern wasn't exactly what Dusk would have called the most desirable place to spend one's time, but the small town of Greentrail really didn't have a whole lot of other options. None, in fact. Besides, her room was cheap and the food was hot, so she supposed she really didn't have much to complain about.
Still, she couldn't help wishing the place was a bit less...unsavory seemed like a good word. The tap room was full to bursting with the town's just-off-work inhabitants who were currently in the process of enthusiastically drinking themselves into a stupor. But they weren't really too bad, just loud. It was the groups of travelers like herself that put her on edge, taking up the largest table in the middle of the room, roaring and laughing, "accidentally" smashing a plate and then grabbing servant girls (and a few boys) round the waist.
She wrapped slim fingers around her own mug of distinctly nonalcoholic cider, drawing a little further into the hood of her oversized cloak. She'd tucked herself away in a corner near the stairs that led up to where rooms were for rent, hoping to down a quick meal before crashing into sweet oblivion. It had been another long day in a series of long days- in a series of rather long weeks, honestly- and she was exhausted.
Exhuasted enough that this crowded, stuffy room and its noise and tension became officially too much for her, empty belly or not. She pushed her half eaten dinner away and stood, giving a nod and a tiny, polite smile at the serving girl who saw her movements and threw her a questioning look. The girl nodded back, rolling her eyes at the rowdy group in the center of the room and giving her an understanding smile as she came over to clear her small table.
"Bit too much for you?" she asked kindly.
Dusk nodded again, blushing. "I'm just...tired," she whispered shyly.
"Can't say I blame you. You were just about dead on your feet when you stumbled in this afternoon, and this lot don't exactly make for a relaxing atmosphere," the girl chattered away in a friendly manner. "Go on and grab some shut eye. Will you be wanting breakfast in the morning?"
Once more she nodded, forcing out a soft, "Yes please," and wishing she had the courage to say more, to thank the stranger for her kindness and return the favor. But when she opened her mouth no sound came out, so she simply gathered her cloak around herself and made for the stairs.
Apparently she was even more tired than she'd originally thought, because she didn't even notice the giant of a man making his way back across the room from the bar before she ran smack into him. He jerked and swore, and suddenly she felt a warmish liquid dumped all over the top of her head. It stank of ale.
"Oh!" she gasped, looking up in shock and fear to see heavy brows set over dark eyes glaring down at her. "F-forgive me, sir. I-it was an a-a-accident-"
"I should bloody hope so," the giant growled, and she took a step back. "It think you owe me for the drink, darlin'."
Dusk swallowed nervously, looking at her feet. "I'm v-very sorry, sir," she practically whispered, "but I don't have the m-money. I s-s-s-spent all my coin on a room for the night. Truly I'm s-s-s-s-sor-"
"'Sorry' don't pay my tab, do it?" the man barked. She cringed, hands fisting in the folds of her cloak. He took a step toward her and she took a step back. Her head knocked against wood and she winced; it seemed he'd cornered her up against the side of the stairs. The smell of alcohol reeked from him, strong enough to make her gag. Her mind raced, trying to come up with some way out of the situation. She glanced around, hoping someone would notice she was in trouble and would figure out a way to calm the man down.
Someone did notice. More than one someone. Unfortunately, "someone" was two of the rowdy bunch that had made her want to escape the taproom in the first place. She saw them glance over, talk to each other, then make their way across the room toward them.
"Whass'a trouble 'en?" one asked, so inebriated his words were barely distinguishable.
"Wench spilled my drink. Says she got no coin to pay for it." Dusk winced, shrinking- if possible- even further with fear.
"Well, payin' don't have to be in coin, necessarily," the third man offered, a crooked grin spreading across his face. Her eyes went wide and flickered around wildly, searching for a path of escape. They weren't quite boxing her in- if she moved quick enough.
Dusk darted forward between two of the men, meaning to hang a sharp right and bolt up the stairs. But someone grabbed her arm, the sudden strength against her slim frame actually jerking her backward off her feet. Too surprised and afraid to even cry out, she was spun around to face three pairs of hungry eyes.
