Catherine Stormword sat in the tavern nursing her ale and thinking of her last job.  Obviously wanting no company, most people avoided the woman who sat stone faced in her traveling clothes of breeches and linen shirt.  She had recovered some documents for a certain Merchant.  No matter that the documents would undoubtedly ruin someone else, he had been pleased with her services and her purse was full.  She had a bit of time to do as she chose for a while at least and was trying to decide whether to hang around this town for a few more days or move on.<br/><br/>She glanced up at the sound of the door opening.  The man who stood there certainly looked not threat to her, so she went back to her musing.  There was an excellent blacksmith here and she could always commission a new dagger.  It would mean staying put, but it might be worth it and who knew, the merchant may have another job or know someone who did.  She was always at a loss when between jobs, having no family or real friends.  Hers was a solitary life and while she might have preferred differently, it was too late to change, or at least so she thought.<br/><br/>Her ears picked up as she heard the man order.  It seemed she may not have any downtime after all, if what he had to say was of interest.  She never wanted to appear too eager though, so she sat as if ignorant of his presence until he sat down in front of her.  Lord, he looked a mess, and nervous to boot.  She shook her head at his lack of subtlety.  How on earth did he expect to keep from drawing attention to himself if he was going to fidget and sweat like that?<br/><br/>Trying to get him to settle down, she turned her stare on him.  “Well, don’t just sit there and look like a man with a secret that is about to jump out and scream itself.  Lower your voice and deliver your message.”<br/>