Noelle sat across from Alan.
She smiled politely, though she felt the fear radiating from the man who leaned back against his seat of the booth, trying to appear nonchalant about the whole thing. The brand that he had showed her burned in her mind as one of the only ways she could get information may be ruined.
"Speak, Alan." She said. And he did, telling her everything because he wouldn't chance feeling her wraith. The man, nearly twice the woman's age, stuttered slightly. He was terrified. The two talked and Noelle called her friend, Athena, to join in on their little 'chat'. He again stuttered, Athena was not the most friendly to ones that crossed her.
"How is your fiancée, Alan?" Noelle asked, smiling slightly. His eyes widened and Athena muttered her name, it was in a warning tone to Noelle but she just waved a hand to silence her. "I am being nice, how is she?" Alan gritted his teeth and glanced around.
"She is..good" he finally answered and Noelle smiled and nodded as Athena stood, leaving to speak to someone else. The two stared at each other for a long moment.
"Tell me what you know now." Noelle said, her voice daring him to disagree with her. And again he spoke, speaking quickly. She stopped him when he mentioned leaders. "Names?" She asked, raising a brow. He shook his head. Her eyes narrowed. "Tell me their names, now." Noelle demanded. Again he simply replied with 'no'.
"The walls have ears, Noelle, I don't trust the walls," he said. Noelle took her turn to shake her head.
"These are my walls, no one will listen in." She gestured to the tavern bar outside the doorway to the booth they sat in. Again, Alan disagreed. "Fine." She said, than gestured him forward. "Come here." Alan hesitated and than stood, close enough where she could whisper if she wanted. Instead she did something entirely unexpected.
Alan crashed back into his seat as her fist slammed into his teeth, cracking one. He gasped slightly, staring at her as he spit blood and the tooth she had knocked lose. Noelle stood and smiled again to him.
"Spirit bless, Alan, and do not forget you still owe me." Than she turned, walking out of the booth with a unchanged expression, shaking her right hand as it hurt slightly from the force she had inflicted on the poor man's teeth.
Alan hurried from the tavern, blood dripping from his mouth and debt hanging over his head like an executioner's blade.
(@UrnackOfIrtath)
