<div class="floatleft">(https://i.imgur.com/zv0GqKC.jpg)<br/><div align="center"><div class="spoiler_container"><div class="spoiler_header" onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button">Quick Stats</div><div class="spoiler_body"><div style="text-align: left;"><strong>Hit Points:</strong> 43/43<br/><strong>Armor Class:</strong> 17<br/><br/><strong><span class="bbc_u">Passive Scores</span></strong><br/><strong>Perception:</strong> 13<br/><strong>Sense Motive:</strong> 19<br/><strong>Knowledge Arcana:</strong> 17<br/><strong>Knowledge Dungeoneering:</strong> 17<br/><strong>Knowledge Geography:</strong> 17<br/><strong>Knowledge History:</strong> 17<br/><strong>Knowledge Nature:</strong> 17<br/><strong>Knowledge Religion:</strong> 17<br/><br/><strong>Languages:</strong><br/>Common, Dwarven, Skald (Ulfen)<br/></div></div></div></div></div>The Inn was crowded that day, more so than usual because of the bitter cold and declining weather. The Seer had predicted a storm blowing south from the northern reaches. Fishing season was almost over and soon the fjords would be packed with ice so thick that it looked blue instead of white. The sea itself didn’t freeze although large chunks of ice could be seen drifting by on the currents. However, the whales that were a mainstay of the village would have all started heading for the warmer waters to the south.<br/><br/>The Inn had two large fireplaces, one on either end and the fires were crackling and popping, adding the smell of wood smoke to that of fresh baked bread, mutton, and fish stew. This meant that, with the extra patrons, the common room was quite warm, at least until the door was opened and an icy blast of cold air chilled those closest to it. It became a game of sorts where those closest to the door would yell and shout to see how quickly they could intimidate the newcomer into closing it again. This added to the general din of talking and drinking making it harder to hear each other over the noise.<br/><br/>As Menas made his tea he noticed one servant in particular stood out from the other women carrying drinks and trays. She was a pretty young Ulfen woman with a sour look on her face. Her hair wasn’t the golden blonde or bright red of most of the other women but a soft brown that cascaded loosely over her shoulders with just two braids pulling it back from her face. Even her eyes were a little larger and had a slightly odd hue, hazel with a hint of gold flecks in them that made one think that perhaps somewhere down her line there might even be some Elven blood in her. She was average height but slim with long, willowy limbs that seemed to belie her true strength as she was always the one called on to carry the heaviest trays.<br/><br/>What probably stood out the most though was the way she was dressed. All of the other women servants wore long, colored shifts underneath darker-colored overdresses and short boots. This particular servant donned worn leather breeches and a sleeveless leather jerkin that didn’t quite reach the top of her pants leaving a swath of midriff and bare arms exposed. Her boots were high, coming up to her knees and she wore leather vambraces around her wrists making her look more like a warrior than a server.<br/><br/>The mood in the Inn was light and happy with someone even playing a lyre in the background. The whaling season had been a good one and the village would be warm and well fed this winter. It was a hard life and food wasn’t always plentiful as the growing season was short and they had to rely on the sea for most of their food. The men were all deep in their cups and there was even a bit of dancing near the lyre player as the men would occasionally grab a serving girl and give her a spin amongst a flurry of booming laughter and light giggles.<br/><br/>Only the warrior girl seemed unhappy and her mood only darkened as she had to endure many a swat to her round, little bottom as she held her tray high overhead while navigating the press of bodies. The eyes of many a man slid up and down her toned body but none ever grabbed her for a spin even when she passed close by the group dancing in the corner. Maybe it was her mood, maybe it was something else, but she definitely didn’t seem to fit in with the other villagers and there was an air of danger about her.<br/><br/>About the time Menas was finishing his first cup of tea, he noticed her slipping past with a large tray filled with tankards of the dark brew that the Ulfen seemed to prefer. It was obviously heavy as the muscles on her arms bulged a little under the weight. As she disappeared into the crowd, all he could see was the tray held high above the heads of the crowd as she tried to make her way to her destination.<br/><br/>Suddenly, a loud feminine scream split the air and the tray disappeared from sight with a loud crash. The crowd quickly split and Menas could see the peculiar, serving girl standing in the middle of the cleared area facing a large Ulfen man who was obviously drunk and laughing uproariously as he pointed a finger at her. The poor girl was drenched from head to toe, dark ale dripping from her hair and nose as she stood in a large puddle of the stuff, eyes boring down on the man laughing at her.<br/><br/>With a snarl and a shout that sounded quite a bit like a battle cry, the woman took two steps forward and launched a nasty kick that caught the man right between the legs. The dumbfounded look on his face would have been hysterical if not for the activity that followed. As the man began to bend forward, she grabbed him by his long, braided, blonde hair and pulled him down hard as she lifted her knee into his face. There was an audible crunch and blood spattered from his shattered nose to mix with the growing puddle of beer at her feet.<br/><br/>Without missing a beat, the woman shifted her weight, ducked underneath him, and flipped him easily over her shoulders. The big man landed flat on his back with a groan and a dull thud as his head hit the floor right in the middle of the puddle. Before anyone could react, the woman jumped on top of him and, while straddling his chest, she snarled down at him punctuating each of her points with a fist to the face.<br/><br/><b>”Remember this Ulfgar,”</b>she snarled as her fist struck his right cheek,<b>”the next time you grab my ass,”</b>as her other fist struck his left,<b>”while I’m holding a tray,”</b>back to the right,<b>”of ale,”</b>as she struck his left cheek again.<br/><br/>It took two large men, one on each shoulder, to drag her off him kicking and spitting. She landed one more kick to the side of Ulfgar’s head as they started dragging her back across the room still struggling and cursing. When they got her back to the bar, the two men held her firmly in place while the bartender removed a plain steel torc from around her throat exposing a greenish ring left by the metal. In its place, he secured a thick, leather, animal collar with a leash that he tied to an iron ring set in a wooden column just on the other side of the bar.<br/><br/>When the men left, she slid down to the floor with her back to the column and her knees pulled up to her chest. Wrapping her arms around her knees, she put her head down and Mensa could see her body shake with quiet sobs. She was soaked with beer and her once fine hair now hung in straggly wet strands covering her face and occasionally dripping on the floor.<br/><br/><br/><br/>