<div class="floatleft">(http://fc06.deviantart.net/fs71/f/2015/056/6/f/jiroph_by_pixeldust86-d8jjoji.jpg)</div>It had been quite a long time since he had returned to Briarton while not on business, and there was one place that he wanted to go just as he had before. The Busty Wench Tavern. He was there when it was raided, and was forced outside by the Imperial Guards. Unsure of where to go the elf had left the city, ever eager to keep a low profile. But now there he was again, the front door of a similar place, but it looked different, possibly improved. It was a sight to see, and as he entered through the door he was greeted by the same atmosphere of laughter, drinking and eyes ogling the waitresses. The one thing that he noticed though that it was seemingly quieter than before, and the amount of strange guests were slim. He remembered how the first time went though, and was still not comfortable in this place, remaining alert.<br/><br/>His characteristic giant sword still hung from his waist, and he took a seat at a corner booth just as before. He quickly spotted the mother of this den, the elf Lyari. He had no personal experiences before with this woman, but knew of her. Next, he saw the head of a dwarf behind the counter, who if he recalled correctly had been serving a man when he saw her the first time. The orc was there as well. But he noticed that a certain fiery redhead was not around. He shifted in his seat, unwilling to yet unbuckle his sword. His hands rested upon the table, head up and scanning the room. No, she was not there. After confirming this, he sat back and waited for someone to approach his table. Lately his work had been affecting him more and more. He had been finding it increasingly harder to simply relax, which was what caused him to come to the tavern the first time and now.