A low rumble shook the already rickety timbers of the inn's upper floors, followed by the sound of breaking glass. Of course. Someone was playing fast and loose with their mark, and she doubted they'd have the money to pay for the damages. Which meant she'd have to throw them out. A weary sigh escaping the fighter-turned-bouncer's lips, she stood up from her seat against the wall and headed for the stairs, cracking her knuckles against each other. Hopefully they'd leave without a fight, she felt guilty enough with them being refugees.
She caught them as they were leaving the room, presumably the one whose window they'd just shattered. "You wanna break stuff, you can do it somewhere else," she called out to them, "this place is busted up enough as it is."









