“The Purple Lantern”, Lilith read out loud. She was weary from travel and this seemed to be the nearest place to rest. The city of Balefire was full of mystery for not many had explored it since it reappeared from the Shadow Plane. Lilith was the adventurous type which had led her to this forsaken place. Finally she made the decision to walk into the tavern.

The place was dark and a putrid smell was floating in the air. Lilith’s reflex was to immediately run out the door and heave, but she controlled herself. Wrinkling her nose, the faerie spotted a booth and headed for it. She could feel eyes linger upon her small frame as she delicately slid into the seat. She tried to keep her head down for fear that she would find lust mixed with hatred in the eyes of the regulars. She placed her bag beside her and glanced quickly around the room in search of a barmaid or waitress. Seeing none, she decided she would just sit there and wait, while praying no one else would approach her.

It didn’t take long for every occupant of the room to realize she wasn’t from around there. With her delicate wings, her tiny body, and clear blue eyes, it was obvious that she seemed unprotected. But Lilith always had protection nearby. Her grasp tightened on the sword she had slid into her lap. She always had her magic, but it was comforting to be able to physically hold onto something.

Finally, a pixie flew her way. “Welcome to the Purple Lantern. I see you are not from around here. Well I wish you best of luck. Now are you going to order or are you waiting for something special to happen?” Lilith stared at the small thing with incredulous eyes. She never knew something so minute could speak with such attitude in her voice. “Uh, I will have just water. I’m not here to cause any trouble.” The pixie squealed with laughter and spoke again, “Hunny, you don’t find trouble, it finds you.” She fluttered away to fill her drink order.

Lilith sat there pondering the creature’s words. Perhaps she had made a bad decision when she decided to enter the Hauntwood Marshes. She sighed heavily knowing she wouldn’t be able to turn around and head for safer places until the next daybreak.

It wouldn’t really matter now would it? If the sun was shining, the birds where chirping, the bard just down the road was plucking his tune out on his moldy lute. A death was a death right? When a single life plucked from the world, souls rushing this way and that, towards the heavens or towards the hells. At least a dark soul could find concealment in the night.

The Purple Tavern was not the best place for a fight. So everything had to be played perfectly. A retaliation could mean death in the reverse direction it was intended. Should the victim kill the killer? Then who would be left to kill the victim? That’s not how assassination worked… it was the killer’s job to eliminate the target, before any head could turn and notice the blood.

A stench that not all the noble women in the land could eliminate. Their perfume perhaps even more rank than the stench of musk, sweat, and ale. The voices of gossip, plotting, and chattering added to the unpleasant environment Scarlet had stepped into. Every taverns signature; a bunch of noise, little room to move, and claustrophobic and asthmatic surroundings that made even the cleanest of disease want to wretch.

The hits name was Lilith. No last name given by the ‘Pounds’. Or so Scarlet liked to call them, the sleaze-bags who hired people like her to do their dirty work. What was to complain about though? With already the eternal damnation sentence placed on her forehead, what did she have left to lose? At least life was fun this way.

It wouldn’t matter; her description gave her away if placed in any environment. And guessing by this rather human town entitled Balefire, it was almost certain she would be easy to pick out of a crowd. With a brief scan and a stolen cup of tea off a passing tray, her target appeared in a corner section, the most obvious place for the wary. Everything had to be perfect, but then again, it always went fairly well…almost…

The clothing was simple this time, no intricate disguise or cloak concealing her entire face and body. A child sized shirt, black cotton with three glassy buttons riding up to the neck. After the last incident with clothing getting in her way during fights, Scarlet had discovered child sized clothing worked best, and was far cheaper than anything she had purchased previously. Black velvet pants, the knees slit open to allow better mobility. Tan bird tamers gloves flaring from her mid forearms, the right lined with several small throwing knives, the left with darts for some kind of blow gun. Her feet clad in tan lamb skin boots riding up to mid calf and laced with leather string.

Thick straight black bangs dangling into her emerald eyes, the rest of her hair brushing idly against the cotton shirt. She reached behind her into her back pocket, drawing a very small palm sized knife, spinning it around in her hand for a moment before she reached the table. The hand holding the knife immediately pressing against her hip to conceal the blade flat against her skin.

“Mind if I sit? The rest of the bar doesn’t look to friendly?” She asked the sitting idly to herself, sipping nothing and speaking with no-one. It was safe to say she was alone, but to what extent was her ability? Nothing was classified under race or fighting type. But by how low she sat in the booth, she couldn’t have been more than 5 feet tall… A mouse compared to Scarlet’s five seven.

Lilith stared up at the woman, who was much taller than herself. She questioned the woman’s intentions, but did not want to start a fight. “No, I don’t mind. I’m just passing by really. So as soon as I got my drink, I’ll be on my way.” The faerie tried to force a smile and found it too difficult. She didn’t want to be rude but the woman before her was making her skin crawl. It might have just been the tavern itself and the disturbing air around it, but she sensed something was…wrong.

Smoothing down her light purple dress, she gazed absent-mindedly around for the pixie that should have brought her drink ten minutes ago. Lilith was really beginning to feel uneasy as she clutched the sword closer. She concealed it with her elegant cloak. Not wanting to ignore the stranger, she cleared her throat and began to talk aimlessly as she usually did when she was nervous.

“So what brings you here? Do you live around here? Oh I forgot to mention my name is,” Here Lilith paused. Would it be wise to give her true name to a stranger? But she had never had a problem about it before so she continued, "Lilith. What is your name? Do you come to this tavern often? It seems very…dark in here.” She was beginning to get frantic. All she wanted was to curl up in front of some tree with a nice fire blazing before her.

About that time, the pixie came flying out. She was using some kind of magic to hold the glass of water in mid-air for she was much too small to hold it. “Here’s your drink. It’ll cost you two gold coins.” Lilith stared at her. “That’s a little steep for water isn’t it?” The pixie laughed her annoying laugh again. “I can take it back if you’re too good to take it.” Lilith shook her head and dug into a small pocket she had made in her dress. Flipping two coins onto the table, Lilith grabbed the drink from mid-air and inspected it. Nothing seemed to be wrong with it but she was still going to be careful. Finally she came to the conclusion that she would either die of thirst or of poison. She chose poison and took a big gulp. The pixie flew off with her money, still giggling. Lilith was relieved to find the water was perfectly fine.

The girl rambled, that wasn’t uncommon. But her nervous stature implied someone tipped her off about the hit. And Scarlet took into context the subtle signs of her wary nature. Assuming they were signs of knowledge, rather than signs of habitual apprehension. Sliding the knife into the inside pocket between her skin and clothing, she took a seat half way through the strange girl’s speech.

Through the years she had dealt with many different races. From trolls to elves to humans to demons. But this girl… was very uncommon indeed. Her appearance indicated she was a fairy. However, generally faeries were social creatures, and took little advantage of grudges or making enemies. Obviously this one had gotten around, and Scarlet couldn’t help her curious nature, questioning now her Pound’s motive to have this girl slain.

“Two gold for water? Unless its from the good Ladies Lake, then I’d have tossed it back in the creatures face. You seem… nervous. I don’t mean to pry, but just passing by a tavern isn’t generally common… I mean, with the dark environment, the diverse crowd, the drunken singing and fights breaking out. There is a lot to distract a person… are you hiding in here?” A fairly bold question; however, not entirely pushy. The tea she had stolen settled on the table near her right glove. The shadows shielding her face, her hand playing idly with the rim of the glass in the light of the candle burning on the table.

She relaxed herself for a moment, and then seemingly bored with the toy of a glass, leaned forward into the light; a long thick curved scar marring her left cheek glistened in its pale white abnormality as the candle illuminated her features. She had a youthful face, no more than 24 years old, and not at all distorted by the mark on her cheek, in truth, it looked to be more of a birthmark than a scar, but few ever had the stomach to ask.

“To be honest… I think people around these parts are dangerous… If you’ll believe it… anyone could have a price on their head…” She paused there, pulling the knife with her left hand, settled nicely under the table. Twisting it between her fingers before stretching her hand forward and pressing the thickest part of the blade against the girl’s calf. “This can be difficult… or easy… move unwontedly, and I severe your leg… Do as I ask. And perhaps you’ll make it out of this alive.” Her voice once friendly, kind, and joyful. Now cold, brutal, and demeaning.

It wasn’t anything new, taking chances. Her bets where the girl was unarmed, and the simple trick of pressing the knife so low that even if Lilith were to look down, she could never find the actual size of the knife, which wasn’t nearly enough to severe her entire leg. It could slice it open well enough, but to do serious damage, it would take a much bigger blade, which was something Scarlet had with her, just not prepared to use without a reason…

Lilith was readying her response to the woman’s question, when suddenly the made a statement that completely threw the faerie off. “What…” Before Lilith could reply, the woman had pressed a knife into her leg. Lilith was very confused but swiftly snapped into action. She knew there were a few things she could do at the moment.

She weighed her options. What could she do without getting herself hurt or killed? But first she wanted to know what rationale this stranger had for threatening her. “I have not offended you, lady. What reason do you have for this?” While she was speaking, she slowly slid her right hand onto the strap of her bag.

Lilith knew not a single being in the tavern would assist her. She figured it would be better that way so no one else would get hurt. Using her peripheral vision, she could see only one door to which she could escape. She also noticed a window that was slightly open. She pondered over what to do with her bag. She definitely couldn’t escape as fast with it holding her back. She only had herbs, cooking necessities, and a dagger inside.

She figured she might need the dagger so she reached her hand into the bag, without taking her eyes from the one in front of her. She pulled out the weapon and slipped it into her pocket. Feeling protected, she stared at the woman with unflinching eyes. If she made her fear known, she’d have no chance. So she gave no thought to what would happen if her plans did not work.

Lilith had never been a fighter of any sort, but she had been in many battles. It was only recently that she had returned to Imythess from a war brewing in other countries. She was swift due to her small size, she knew a lot of magic, and she had been trained in the art of swordplay a long time ago by a man named Verling. She figured she was prepared enough to handle the intimidating lady sharing her booth.