The scenery ran together in the shadows of night, the carriage clacking and rattling down the road.  Its driver guided it away from the manor, the moon rising high in the sky behind him, lighting the ground before his horses' hooves.  The clip-clop of hooves echoed off the trees that lined the manor's drive before they were between the gates and out onto the open landscape.  The McLauren Manor was set neatly into the land around it, and his employers asked very little of him, and paid him well.  Tonight he was bid to drive the oldest daughter of the McLaurens to<em>The Hilt</em>, a place where a man could be hired, but only if you had the coin to peek his interest.<br/><br/>The Duchess Megara McLauren was one such lady, and at the bidding of her family was traveling to hiring another bodyguard.  She was an independent woman, that traveled in and out of the Manor, off on her daily roamings of the city of Miran.  Her family feared greatly for their daughter's safety, and had requested, or rather demanded, she hire someone to guard her person only.  The Manor McLauren employed many men-at-arms, militia and such.  The Lady Megara had demanded that her childhood friend be her guard, but he lead most of the estate's militia.  So now, the carriage rolled along towards<em>The Hilt</em>, off to find a man that could watch her safely.<br/><br/>She pushed aside the small curtain on carriage door with her long fingers, looking out the window to survey her surroundings.  The ride to the tavern was not a long one, but it seemed excruciating because of her task.  Her family had bidden her to find herself a bodyguard to keep her from harm.  Because she could not stay in the care of her family's militia and bodyguard, she had taken to the streets to find someone that could be paid to guard her.  Megara shook her head, the black coils of her hair slithering about her shoulders.  Dropping her hand away from the window, she sat back on the plush seat of her carriage to think.<br/><br/>Crossing one long leg over the other under her brocaded ebony dress, she rested her hands in her lap.  But what kind of man to choose?  A young one would suit her purpose.  Guided by the coin, and easy to manipulate... Though an older male would have the experience her family would be pleased with.  She blew out a breath, her lips curving into a small smile.  A young one then... To make her family regret their decision.  She was not without skills, and could protect herself if need be.  The carriage rolled to a stop outside<em>The Hilt</em>, and she opened the carriage door herself, before the driver could hop down from his perch.<br/><br/>Slipping the hood of her cloak over her hair, Megara glanced about their surroundings, taking in the building they had stopped in front of.  She waited for her friend to climb down from his horse, asking him softly<strong>"I trust your judgment, but are you sure we can find someone here?"</strong>She twitched the brocaded skirt of her dress into place with a gentle tug, and waited for him to accompany her inside.