The bartender was not really expecting that kind of outburst.  He let Verisira go, though -- his need to be a good host ended around the time his guests wanted to leave, as a general rule.  Verisira stomped out, and found herself outside, clad in attire that Jaime never would have willingly dressed herself in, in the dark, with nowhere, really, to go.  If only she'd stuck around long enough to get a map or something from Michelle...<br/><br/>The town was, of course, just as Michelle had said: not a town at all, but a city.  The street she was on even had a cobbelstone road, and it was flanked on either side by lots of buildings, brick and lumber in about even proportions.  Finding another tavern would be easy -- this wasn't a great part of town, and it seemed like there were places to drink everywhere.  She hardly had to walk five minutes before stumbling onto a corner building, sturdy wood all and all, with a painted sign hanging down before it, proclaiming it the Lonely Troll Taproom.  There were others, too -- it really only came down to where Verisira wanted to stop.