The She wolfs Return

Chapter One

It was a late summers night in the small sleepy village of Ravenstone. A summer storm had blown in that day and the rain seemed never ending like it was trying to flood the quaint little village. A figure in a dark cloak watched the busy tavern from from the back of her dark steed as the storm raged on. She tied him up outside and carefully made her way inside. Ravenstone was a small village where only a handful of people of people lived. It was located in the the more untamed parts of Ireland. Its main residents were renegades and exiles of society outcasts from the places they once belonged in the places they once called home. This was a place that time itself seemed to have forgotten where the outcasts of the real world found comfort in each others misery. The dark figure made her way to the bar inside the noisy tavern ignoring the odd glances she got from its residents. She sat down on the bar stool and placed a fistful of coins down on the bar between her and the rather skeptical looking bartender. He raised an eyebrow "Your strongest ale" she commanded her dark hair and hood concealing her face from him. Without another word he went off to prepare her drink. 

She had caught the eye of a greasy drunkard who was wallowing away in his own misery with his companions. Drinking away there sorrows until they passed out and then when awakened, would do it all again but thats what the people of Ravenstone did. Thats all they had left to do really. He staggered up to the bar and leaned on it right beside the dark figure.                             "Hey you," he said in a drunken slur. "How about you and I go rent a room" his speech barely understandable because of his hideous disgraceful state. The dark figure could of thrown up with just the smell of him. By now some of the others in the bar were watching this all play out. Without so much as slightly turning her head so as to avoid the stench of his breath, she replied "In your dreams, now bug off" The tension in the bar grew so thick it was near impossible not to notice it. Rumbling mutterings had turned to dead silence. A tall muscular man approached her and slammed his fist down on the bar at the other side of her. She glanced at his face from underneath her head. Judging by the scars on his face and tattoos on his knuckles she reckoned he must of once been a mercenary of some kind. "Just who do you think you are eh Princess?!The name hit her like a dagger to the heart. "I'm no princess I assure you but I used to be a one of sorts. The thug left out a  hefty laugh. He leaned in closer and growled softly. "And now?" "The whole tavern held its breath. 

The  dark figure let out a sigh. "I'm no one, just  a washed up assassin who used to have a throne under her feet and a lover by her side, both of which are long gone". The thug eased away from her after a moment and let out an acknowledged grunt. "So your really no different from the rest of us then are you?" She turned this time and looked him in the eye "No, no I'm not" she answered quietly. At this the whole bar let out an eruption of cheers. The clinking of glasses and the uneasy tension replaced with a welcoming feel. "Then we welcome you to Ravenstone, the land of the outcasts!" The tavern gave a confirming celebratory cheers to second the thugs announcement. "So to whose name do we put a toast to eh?" he asked as he playfully punched her on the shoulder. She took a deep sigh and pulled her hood down. "Colette, Colette Lawson."

After everything that had happened Colette had walked for miles until she had come to a small farm where she had stayed for the night. As she was hiding from the farmer one day she had noticed the stables and the fine black steed within. A few nights later under the cover of a dark rainy Irish night she had stolen the steed from the stables and took off having no idea where she was going until about a week later both steed and assassin exhausted had ended up in the village of Ravenstone. Her once healthy supply of money was gone. As the League believed her to be dead all her funds were probably taken and spent by now. What little money she had left was got from pick-pocketing people while travelling. How the mighty had fallen. Four months had passed since then. Colette was now well settled in the village and the people there had accepted her as one of there own. Turns out the thug in the bar that night wasn't as bad as he seemed. Colette sometimes got small mercenary or theft contracts off him to help her pay her way. She had then gained enough money from them to rent out a small flat in the upstairs of one of the buildings in the village. 

She lived  a relatively easy life. She completed contracts and then spent her days training and her nights amongst her new found friends. It was a simple life but there was something almost addicting about it. To be honest she wouldn't change it. It was a nice break from the life of an assassin, always on a wire always so uptight but this was so much calmer. No responsibilities, no people to command no world that needed saving. This was the destiny she was handed and she was starting to accept it. She never wanted to return to her days as the heir of the assassins.