<div class="floatleft">(http://fc02.deviantart.net/fs71/f/2014/327/b/e/rinne_by_jennyverse-d87fwdz.jpg) (https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/e/e0/5250166c04574a198c0803868d48d966.jpg)</div><br/>Rinne slipped into the tavern, catching the door quietly with a hand behind her back. Her sharp chestnut eyes scanned the inn with a practiced ease before her shoulders relaxed, bringing her hand to up to brush away some wayward strands of brown hair. The faint sound of her greaves clicked on the floor as she crept across the tavern, looking for a suitable place to sit. Her keen eyes picked out some of her fellow patrons as they flirted openly with the waitresses. Rinne had met her fair share of races on the battlefield, but those that came here seemed to be quite a bit more..<em>exotic</em>. Some of the other guests, the flaming demon she saw earlier in particular, made her tense up just a bit and reach for the spot on her hip where her sword usually rested. Fortunately, today was an off-day for her, and so it was left at home.<br/><br/>She managed to cross most of the Busty Wench before finding a spot at an empty table. Rinne propped her head up with an elbow as she took one more sweeping gaze of the place, making sure nobody would recognize her. The Angels of the Battlefield, they were called. An all-female group of mercenaries that had never failed a mission. If any of them knew what kind of fantasies their head Angel were into, there would be hell to pay. Not to mention the utter destruction of her reputation that Rinne shuddered to think about. Luckily, none of them were present.  In fact, Rinne noticed, she seemed to be the only female patron in the entire tavern. She wondered if she was making the right decision.