Catherine admired the ink on the small woman.  It was some of the finest work she had ever seen.  While she loved  personal adornments such as these and had often longed for one, she kept to her guns on "no identifying marks."  Besides, one could never trust the artist not to embed a cantrip along with the ink.  She realized she was being cautious, but still, she had yet to meet someone trustworthy enough to allow them to place<em>their</em>work on<em>her</em>body.<br/><br/>"Well," she assured her guide, "If it goes well, you'll not have to do any killing.  I'll take care of that, but it is nice to know you can handle yourself and that I'll have someone at my back if,...and probably when, I need it."  She smiled, liking this woman very much.  "As pleasant as another night in bed would be, I think we have work to do.  As you say, we need a saddle and I need to visit a blacksmith named Jacobs.  I think that's the first place we need to start. Let's get started with supplies and then we'll move to the information that we need to find our way. "<br/><br/>She took a second of the biscuits and crumbled it into the stew to soak up the rest of the savory liquid.  It took a lot of food to fuel a fighter and they'd be on short rations in the underdark.  She had no plans to eat anything that may have been fouled by the dark elves, who often took great delight in contaminating the food of their human slaves. Wiping her plate clean and washing it down with the thick, dark ale that complimented the sweet biscuits, she looked at her companion again and suddenly laughed and leaned forward.<br/><br/>"Shira, my dear," she said in a low voice with a hint of anticipation and excitement to it, "Let's go get ready to kill a queen."