Amongst the cheerful ramblings of a blitzed crowd, the gamblers gamble, the drunks drink, and the wenches look... hmm, most appealing. So far, the pretty ladies were the only worth while avenue of this establishment. If you could even call a lousy run-down pub that.

In the far courner sits a hooded figure, nursing a mug of mead. Occasionally, he would leer over to one of the passing bar wenches with a slight friendly smile. The mead wasn't as appitizing, nor nutritious, as a certain form of red liquid... but it would have to do until a proper meal could be found. Really, it was like devouring bitter sweets. At a different time, it could've been enjoyable.

'What kind of stupid name is "The Black Sheep" for a pub anyway?' he thought to himself. 'Tch.'

Glaring back to a table of patrons, the noise they were making were starting to grate on the man's nerves. He began to drum his fingers across his own table, in an effort to calm himself.

In the darkened night, a figure dropped from a window on a mansion. The figure was unnoticeable as it crept through the darkness towards the lower class area. As the light shown on the figure more, through their cloak you could see the small hints of a well curved frame.

A loose lock of hair fell loose from the hood as the figure ran towards the pub. It was a forbidden place, especially to high class lady. The woman beneath the cloak hadn't a care for the rule that forbade her from the area. It made it all the more fun.

Walking into the pub, the woman removed her cloak. Her curved frame was constricted into a small sized corseted dress. She seemed as if she could not breath, but her expression told otherwise. On her full lips their was a smirk, a knowing smirk. She was the only high class woman in here, not even peasant women really came here.

The woman took a seat at the end of the bar which was near the corner. She felt the thrill of being here, the atmosphere just drew her in. She ordered a drink, the finest one could find in this place. The glass was handed toher, she knew eyes were on her and her expensive blood red dress. Her sparkling green eyes leered over all the men and women in the room as she drank.

In an instant, the former annoyances became mere pitter-patter, unimportant. That woman... the one that had just entered this place. There's no way she could be living within a dump of a town like this. She had to be traveling with a well-off family on the road. Oh dear. She'll be picked upon mercilessly by rogues that plague this pub. Someone ought to offer her their protection.

Someone strong. Someone marvelous. Someone with the smile of a champion. Someone like...

'Like moi?' He allowed a small chuckle, grinning as if he had already won the fair maiden's heart. The idea was almost absurd. Picking up a well-endowed lady was troublesome. After her disappearance, her caring family would set up an impressive reward for the capture of their daughter's abduction. Or possible murder.

Bah. A forged letter would solve all of that. Pushing his mug away, the man stood up, clutching his cape closely around his muscled figure. It wouldn't do well to offend a delicate flower with his ill garbs, though he thought they looked wonderful on him. With pride, he strode forward to the alluring lady's table. She already bought herself a drink. How could he buy her over? Wenches can be swayed easily with his strength, but the blue-bloods were usually more expensive.

"My dear," he drawled, heavy of accent. This was the time to carefully consider his choice of words. "I couldn't help but notice such a lonely bloom as yourself seems under protected in this sea of riff-raff."

Pulling down his hood, he reavealed his face. Thick dark blue locks were kept away from his hard-cut visage by a beaten eyepatch. "Glenn MacIntosh, the honorable, at your service m'lady."

Leaning over, he picked up the woman's hand, kissing it gently. If only so his one good eye could get a closer look at her assets. 'She bloody well gave permission,' Glenn mused gleefully, 'Undressing me with her eyes earlier. I saw that, most certainly I did saw!'

Annaleisia couldn't help but allow her smirk to come back, "Looking for trouble where shouldn't mister?" She spoke, her smirk turning into a somewhat flirty smile. Here for only a few minutes and she was already approached by an intimidating figure. She felt the same thrill returning, though he was mistaking about her being underprtected.

The woman had experience with fending off men, though she could tell that she probably wouldn't be able to with this one. If anything, she would have to run if things got ugly. But where was the fun in that?

She pulled her slender hand away, "Sit if you wish to be company of me, if not, I believe some of the tavern wenches would enjoy your... attention." She then gestured to the seat next to her. She was aware that more than likely she was biting off more than she could chew at the moment. He seemed well worth the trouble, something about him she just couldn't put her finger on. Oh well, might as well enjoy myself tonight. She thought as she took another sip of her drink.