Silent Cicada was one of those cheaper bar taverns where overworked, stressed men and women went to waste themselves away and forget their lives. The bartenders were never friendly, and the waiters were actually part of the overworked and stressed populace. Though, because it was in the middle of the day, the bar tavern was quite empty. The windows were thrown open, letting in the sunshine to illuminate the low-quality bar and all it's muskiness. It gave the building a slight degree of comfort, but a glaring glance from the single bartender behind the counter was still as uninviting as ever. Wilhelm could only assume that the people who entered here never paid any mind to the faces of the employees, too self-absorbed and self-centered. Who knows, maybe those uninviting glares were welcoming to the sadistic mindsets of drunks who came to wallow in their despair.

"Geez, what the hell is that smell?" Mirrah's voice came as a hiss, probably catching the attention of some of the men seated near the entrance.

Wilhelm shouldered Mirrah, silencing her. He would rather not put up a ruckus for no reason. He lifted his hand still, putting a sleeve to the stench of stale alcohol and unmentionables that permeated the air. He spent a second wishing that his client hadn't picked such a disgusting place to meet in before walking slowly into the building. There was shade in the dimly lit lobby, but even Wilhelm would have rather traded it for the freshness of boiling summer rays. He turned his head, scanning the people who had the joy of losing all their luck so early in the day.

There were maybe four people in total in the room, maybe five in the very back of the tavern, huddling in the darkness. All of them were men from what his short glance around the room could tell. Though, a majority of them were collapsed on the table, hoods covering their heads. The ones who weren't passed out where sitting lethargically at their seats, heads bobbing up and down. His client had either already left (he knew that he wouldn't stay a second longer in this place if he could help it) or was completely wasted on the tables.

Removing his hat from his head, Wilhelm walked over toward the empty bar (an aspect he was all too grateful for). It looked like the bartender had been spending most of her time swabbing the floor with a fragrant watery solution. She was still swishing the water around with the mop as Wilhelm approached. She was a well built woman, almost too well-built judging from the muscles bulging from underneath her smock. Her face had far too much makeup on. "Excuse me, ma'am?"

The bartender cast Wilhelm a glance before continuing to spread the ward to funky smells around the floor. "You can't be in here past six, mister. And don't destroy the furniture."

Mirrah popped up beside Wilhelm, leaning forward on the counter. "You ought to spread that stuff around the entire tavern," she said, smiling. Wilhelm gave her stomach a good whack underneath the table.

The bartender threw a piercing glare at Mirrah, one that could've melted metal if it had been the substance of fire. But her glare softened into a smirk-scowl. A wonder how she could pull that expression off. "A group of travelers had too much to drink here last night. They threw their innards all over the floor. Been trying to get the stench out all morning." She cocked an eyebrow, leaning on the end of her mop. "Who are you kids anyway? Not in here to sell cookies or nothin' I hope."

Wilhelm spotted her eyes wandering to the massive suitcase on his back. He was quick to set it down on the floor. "Actually I'm looking for someone."

"Your mommy?" The woman chuckled, rather unpleasantly.

"No, not my mother, ma'am. The woman spends more time sleeping with the stones of the village than to keep an eye on her youngest offspring, rest her soul." His voice was flat, unashamed to show the annoyance that the bartender had provoked within him. Wilhelm brushed the strands of black hair from his eyes, watching the confused expression on the bartender's face, then smiled. "I was actually hoping you could tell me if a woman named Lorena Setha'elle has been within your tavern. My guard and I have business with her."

It took a full second for the woman to respond. She lifted her head and nodded. "Ah... Well... If she ain't here in the public room, she might've rented one of them private rooms in the back." She reached underneath the counter, pulling a clipboard and a pen and turned her eyes down toward it. "Lorena Se... Setha'elle, you say?"

"Yes, ma'am."

The woman squinted. "Would ya say it's spelled with an 'S' or a 'C'?"

"I'm sure that if the rest of the letters corresponded with the name, it would be her," Wilhelm said impatiently.

"Ah well..." She tapped the clipboard. "Yer just in luck. She's in Room 3 in the back, ain't left yet." She gestured toward the dark corridor just beyond the counter. "If ya go down that way, she should be in the room at the end of the hall."

Wilhelm bowed his head gracefully, taking the handle of his closet-suitcase in the same motion, and straightened himself. "Thank you." That said, he turned on his heels, moving toward the corridor. He fought an intense urge to put his hat back on his head upon reemerging into the stink. Usually the interior of rooms were supposed to be kept smelling fresh, not like he was moving through a trash yard.

Mirrah followed soon behind him. "I really think you shouldn't talk like that to someone who's twice your height with muscle. Most people with no brains wouldn't think twice to pile-drive you into the floor if they don't understand what you're saying." She chuckled under her breath.

"Yes. Next time I'm be sure to dumb down my vocabulary to better suit the needs of the common people," Wilhelm muttered. "Surprising what a year or two of reading can do to you." He glanced back at Mirrah as they passed into the short corridor. "You'd think most 15-year-olds would know how to speak intelligently, right?"

"Most 15-year-olds have hit 5 feet and spend more time roughing it up with the boys."

"Shut up, Mirrah," Wilhelm snapped. Mirrah simply giggled in response.

The corridor was dark, which made it that much harder to see after passing from the bright outdoors. But thankfully, the unpleasant smell from the public room seemed to die down, replaced with that same fragrant smell the bartender was wiping along her counter. It also seemed to be further away from the humidity of the summer day, which was a welcoming reprieve. There were only three other doors lining one side of the corridor, all labeled with a large brass number hanging on the wooden doors. Wilhelm paused before the third door and gave a knock.

"Miss Setha'elle?"

Silence. Wilhelm glanced back at Mirrah, who shrugged, then gave another knock. "Miss Setha'elle? Are you in there?"

More silence.

Mirrah lowered her head next to Wilhelm's. "You think she had too much to drink and passed out?" Wilhelm pushed her away, Mirrah simply smiling. "C'mon it is a bar. People come here to drink and have a good time."

"I hardly think those people we walked past were having a good time. She must not be in here." Wilhelm turned to look at the other end of the corridor, feeling slightly awkward standing there in the dark. He was grateful that the smell didn't reach this far into the tavern, but the narrow corridor was starting to make him feel rather claustrophobic. "But the bartender said she hadn't left yet."

"Well," Mirrah moved over, taking the door by the handle. "Ever thought about opening the door?"

"Mirrah, there's a reason they call it a private..." The door clicked, and then pushed open. Wilhelm frowned, waving a hand in a gesture of defeat. "I've been wrong before."

Mirrah pushed the door wide open, revealing a tiny room, really fitting no more than five people comfortably. A table took up a majority of the space with two couches on either side. A wine bottle sat on the table with two glasses on either side. The room was completely empty. "There's no one in here."

Wilhelm leaned in to get a better look, despite there not being much to see.

Mirrah stepped in, taking a glance behind the door.

"Mirrah?" Wilhelm waved his hand and shook his head. "Really? Behind the door, Mirrah?"

"What? It could happen."

"Why would she hide behind the door if she wanted us to come?"

Mirrah laughed. "You never know."

Wilhelm sighed, throwing his hands up. "She's obviously already left. Let's go." He turned, beginning to retrace his steps back into that repulsive smelling public room.