Zarah huffed, extremely annoyed. she sat hidden in a corner of the nearly empty tavern, eying all of the potentially rich male, or possibly even female, customers.
She needed gold, but every one of the taverns customers at the moment were either all scraggly drunkards who scrapped money off the streets, or cheap brothel girls who were taking a quick break here, praying not to be caught away from their rooms.
Zarah sighed and turned to stare into the dancing flames of the lit fireplace. Fire licked the soot covered walls.
Why was she even here? Even she, a gypsy thief, was too good to be mixed with this midnight crowd.
If a visibly rich man didn't walk into the tavern/inn through the thick wooden front door within 5 minutes with his trouser pockets bulging with gold coins, she was going to call it a night and slip out, hopefully to find a more fruitful bar.