Suddenly, a small, underripe pumpkin rocketed into the tavern, blasting a chunk out of the door and embedding itself into the bar with a mighty [b]CRASH[/b].

"[b]Attention, peasants![/b]"

Ludmilla Van Valkenburg strode confidently into the tavern, holding her broom in her left hand as she examined the manicure job on her right.

"I am Ludmilla Van Valkenburg. Before you ask: Yes, THE Ludmilla Van Valkenburg. The [i]impossibly rich and talented[/i] one. Anyway, enough about me, onto why I'm here- ye gods, this place is [i]filthy![/i]"

She walked over the body of the apparently deceased guardsman, giving him a swift kick in the back of the head for good measure.

"I was looking into the life cycle of the rare Ulludrian Forest Squash- botanical research, I don't expect [i]your kind[/i] to understand the significance- and while flying between my sample sites I came across a very peculiar sight."

She plopped herself down on a barstool, positioning herself to face as many of the bar patrons as possible. This accomplished, Ludmilla steepled her fingers and put on her very best "grave and serious" face.

"...You've got a [i]dragon[/i] on your hands. Wounded, spitting fire, royally [i]pissed[/i] and headed towards this very establishment [i]as we speak[/i]- I assume that last bit's the fault of this idiot currently bleeding to death all over your floor. Ugly bloke. Now, I know you people aren't the sort what's cut out to handle such a task- It's no fault of your own, really, you're just not capable- but I fear there are some [i]very important[/i] specimens in that forest and at the rate things are moving I fully expect said specimens to be [i]ash[/i] come morning. So, I make a proposal: Kill that dragon and I'll pay you each, er... I don't know, some shiny buttons or animal teeth or something. Whatever it is poor people use for currency. Deal?"