Naomi had not placed one foot inside the Den when a Dwarf nearly bowled her over in his haste to leave the tavern.  Dwarves.  Always so volatile and difficult to reason with.  Stubborn and greedy.  But on the frontier there were no better companions to have when duty required battle.  No one fought harder or with more intensity than an enraged Dwarf.  Judging from his countenance and haste, Naomi assumed he had either just lost a sizable wager or had been forced to relinquish some item of value.  She watched him stomp off towards the stables grumbling under his breath.  Perhaps he would run into Daemion and the two could arm wrestle or practice hurling insults at one another or that other favorite Dwarven pastime;  wagering.<br/><br/>Chuckling to herself she turned, once more, to enter the tavern but came face to face with an Elf.  To say she was surprised, shocked, or just startled might have been accurate, but what gave her sudden pause was not just his fair skin and hair but his dark eyes.  Slightly taller than she he stepped aside and held the door open.  With a quick bow of the head he gave her a polite;<br/><br/>“Your pardon.”<br/><br/>Naomi blinked several times before everything registered.  She was unused to being caught off guard and now it had happened twice in mere minutes.  In her entire life she had not seen such a variety of beings in a single day.  First Fae, then a Dwarf and now an Elf, and a Ranger no less, judging from his manner of dress.<br/><br/>Rangers … in her service in the borderlands they served as scouts, trackers and silent killers.  In her four years of service, however, she had only been on one patrol with a Ranger.  Intensely focused and skilled but quiet and aloof, as if the secrets they held were theirs alone, they moved swiftly, silently and could track over solid granite.  She had also heard from several of the other women serving with her, that Rangers made excellent lovers.  Naomi felt her face grow hot and quickly looked away as the Elf, first glanced toward the stairs, then back to her.<br/><br/>"The lady is at the stairs," he said as if reading her mind.  "If you are swift, you may catch her before she retires to her room."<br/><br/>Naomi nodded her thanks and started up the stairs.  In a single glance she took in the interior of the tavern.  The odor of stale ale, straw and pipe smoke permeated the building like a second skin.  The bartender was fingering what appeared to be a bracelet of some value judging from its gold color.  The Dwarves perhaps?  Payment on a wager or for damages?  She noticed several broken chairs lying against one of the far walls.  Dwarves.  She smiled and turned her attention to the stairs, but before she took another step, she glanced back towards the door.  The Elf had gone and the door was just closing.<br/><br/><em>“Dark eyes.” </em>She thought.<em>“How unusual.”</em><br/><br/>Another human was on the stairs above her.  His dress was odd to say the least.  Vertical stripes that made the eye quiver.  Heavy belts about his waist with several odd looking weapons attached, he looked more like a vagabond troubadour than an adventurer.  He was speaking to someone just out of sight above.  Naomi caught up to him and touched him lightly on the shoulder.<br/><br/>“Excuse me.”  She said quietly.  “I am looking for the girl called Rain.  Daemion sent me.  I am called Naomi.”<br/><br/>