Agatha sat alone in the dimly-lit tavern, nursing a cup of watered-down ale as she brood over her tome. A drunken man stumbled over to her, slurring his words as he sought to speak.

"Fuck off," she scowled. But her words, instead of sending him away, invited more men to join the fray. Friends of the sire, seemingly emboldened by her scornful say.

Surrounded by the group of leering men, her frown deepened. But still she sat, sipping her ale in frustration as the group hemmed in closer.