<div align="center"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 14pt;"><em><strong>But for our girls, there wasn’t, in fact, always the stables.</strong></em></span></div><br/><br/><div align="center"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 18pt;">:۞:••:۞:••:۞:••:۞:••:۞:••:۞:••:۞:••:۞:••:۞:••:۞:••:۞:••:۞:••:۞:••:۞:••:۞:••:۞:••:۞:••:۞:••:۞:••:۞: ••:۞:••:۞:••:۞:••:۞:••:۞:••:۞:••:۞: </span></div><br/><div align="center">(http://pixelartmaker.com/art/3e3fb4d4a8794fd.png)</div><br/><div align="center"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 18pt;">:۞:••:۞:••:۞:••:۞:••:۞:••:۞:••:۞:••:۞:••:۞:••:۞:••:۞:••:۞:••:۞:••:۞:••:۞:••:۞:••:۞:••:۞:••:۞:••:۞: ••:۞:••:۞:••:۞:••:۞:••:۞:••:۞:••:۞: </span></div><br/><div align="center">(http://pixelart.studio/Gallery/Image/a8f9c4be-1dc9-463b-83d3-5bf7791d888d?type=gif&amp;stuff=pixelartstudio_export&amp;author=Unknown%20author&amp;title=Loading%20gif)<br/></div><div align="center"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 18pt;">:۞:••:۞:••:۞:••:۞:••:۞:••:۞:••:۞:••:۞:••:۞:••:۞:••:۞:••:۞:••:۞:••:۞:••:۞:••:۞:••:۞:••:۞:••:۞:••:۞: ••:۞:••:۞:••:۞:••:۞:••:۞:••:۞:••:۞: </span></div><br/><br/><div align="center"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 14pt;">Oh, you’re still interested in learning more about these adventurers?? Good of you to stick around! Can you toss some more logs onto the fire please. No. No, not that one. Yes, that one. Oh, that’s good. Does my shriveled ol’ heart some good to see a traveler such as yourself interested in a tale of…<br/><br/>…What? The stables? <br/><br/>Oh! Yes, yes. The stables. Story, right. <br/><br/>Just like every good tale, this one has some baddies in it. Our girls were devastated, down, but they weren’t counted out. They stumbled from that crap-hole of a tavern and down the main road in town. Lesniya helping a limping Sophia along as they debated where they could find shelter. Someone thought they were easy pickings. Which, they were, but that ain’t the point. <br/><br/>Now there are three sides to every story – what he said, what she said, and the truth. Some say it was a rogue warlock that crept after the two women. Some call it a troll without a bridge. Or a dwarf with a hammer and a grudge. My personal opinion, I think it was one of those little rat-tail theivin’ boys from the tavern, out to twist the knife a little deeper. Whatever it was, it followed those two boobalicious women down the street and when they were finally out of sight of the tavern, it attacked!<br/><br/>Lesniya slashed. Sophia threw her boot. They both screamed. The fight was on!! Chaos reigned!! <em>Welcome to the Thunder-</em> <br/><br/>….I mean… <br/><br/>There was a fight as the girls refused to give up what they had left to their name. <br/><br/>And ol’ asshat Cerias – rumor has it that he watched it from the sidelines! You see, he wasn’t as hard-hearted as others thought. Some speculate that he left the tavern from a different door, going in another direction, but found his feet carrying him towards the same road the women were on and caught up in time to see the redhead put the smack down and Evenember’s daughter finish kicking their attacker’s butt. It ran off into the night and the girls dragged themselves together once more. <br/><br/>They. Were. A. Sight. Bruised. Dirty. Tired. Hair all…. Gross. No man in his right mind would think of trying to bed their mud-covered asses now. But now they knew they were being eyed as victims so the girls high-tailed it out of the town’s center to the edge, where they found an old donkey barn. It was sturdy, but cobweb-filled and hardly used for more than a storage place for gear anymore. So late in the night, promising to sleep in shifts and make their way to the river in the morning to clean, the girls bedded down. </span></div>