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Maybe it hadn't been a good idea to come to the Town. A job will turn up, he kept thinking about it, as if thinking about it would make it happen. Ainvar walked slowly back to the tavern, immersed in these thoughts, after spending the day looking for some steady source of income. He was almost there. The street narrowed there just at the point where another crossed it. Three surly men stood concealed as they waited, tensely. Ainvar did not see them until he passed them. The three watched him pass without much interest.

At the same instant, hurried footsteps approached rapidly, at a run, from one of the perpendicular streets. The men twitched and lunged forward, swords drawn, as soon as a saddle carried by two men rounded the corner. The porters resisted fiercely, while a woman's face peered worriedly from inside the hand-chair.

Ainvar acted instinctively. Seeing that the struggle of the unarmed men was futile.
- Lady, come, for your life! -he said as he offered her his hand. The woman looked, hesitated, saw that it was her only option, and accompanied him on the run to the tavern. Later the notice to the guard, and the lady's house and the escape of the assailants.

He did not know it yet, but the impromptu rescue of Lady Isabella had earned him unknown enemies, but also the woman's gratitude.

Lady Isabella is a 30 year old widowed aristocrat. She possesses striking yet delicate features, with high cheekbones, almond-shaped green eyes, and cascading chestnut waves of hair. Her regal bearing exudes quiet confidence, complemented by a slender yet graceful figure.

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