You feel a tap on your shoulder, and you spin around to find yourself face to face with the mercenary you've hired. Her long bangs frame her face, and her ponytail runs down her back to her waist, the pastel blue hue of her hair a stark contrast to the dull alcohol-ridden atmosphere.

"You must be the one who needs my services," she states with a calm smile. Her voice is soft and whispery, barely audible above the din of the tavern.