Day drinkers in the Pig and Whistle are not a raucous bunch. Their conversations are a consistent, if dull, hum in the drinking establishment. The more daring, or desperate, typically try to sell a bit of information for a pint or some coin to Bricu. He enforces the more subdued atmosphere with strict control of the taps. Today isn’t much different, except for the hatchet faced dwarf on the loft. He’s dressed far better than most of the other day drinkers, but his eyes are wild and his beard looks more like a bird’s nest than a point of dwarven pride. The dwarf stares at the entrance to the Pig. Bricu and the day drinks doesn’t seem to care.

The dull hum stops completely. From your–and Bricu’s–vantage, you can see who stopped the conversations. She’s a Draenei, dressed more for a street fight than a day of drinking. Her eyes have the glow common to so many of the Ebon Knights who sided against their former King. She gives you, and Bricu, a curt nod and heads upstairs to speak with the wild eyed dwarf. One of the day drinkers starts to follow, but Bricu’s clipped, “Sit.” makes him stop….

“Leave that one alone. Her name’s Sed…short fer Sedrai. She doesn’t deal with Sevens, Costra’s or even Roses. She deals with the kinda bastards that’d make our esteemed professor get all chivalrous ’bout: Demons. She doesn’t study them. She doesn’t consult them. She doesn’t make ‘em pets. She puts the fuckers down.”

Bricu lights another cigarette.

“Now I’ve heard a few things ’bout her crew, an I can’t tell yeh what’s true an’ what’s ballacks. I can tell yeh that she learned some o’her tricks the ol’fashioned way. Yeh ken the kind. Blind, mysterious bastards that’ll see fell taint an’ cut it out quicker than yeh can swallow yer fear. I saw a few o’their kind at the Black Temple… Right, those wankers worked with Malfurion’s bigger-winged brother, but yeh get the idea. Demonhunters. I’ve heard tell o’these folk doin’ things that most others wouldn’t dream o’, an’ that includes our esteemed arcanists’s an’ demonologists. I’ve heard that they bind demons ta themselves ta contain their essence. I’ve heard they’ve gathered blood–aye, blood–ta power rituals ta trick the most powerful o’demonkind. An’ I’ve heard that one upstairs is one o’their enforces. Think ’bout that fer a second, mate. She’s their enforcer. She keeps the ones who bind demons an’ blood gatherin’ ritualists safe. She sound like the kind o’person yeh want ta annoy or pester?

“Me? I’m gonna enjoy me nervous cigarette an’ let her borrow the loft fer a wee bit. It’s a lot fuckin’ better than the alternative.”