Two years on and she'd returned to Fiore to find nothing but deserted destruction where that proud guild had once stood - where he'd once worked to build it all - and her own guild was gone too, leaving her with no idea where she had to go, and no clue who to ask for help. The first days back had been rough, working in restaurants just to pay for the food there, sleeping at
the side of the road, fighting between her need to live and her need to break down and grieve. But the daily struggle wasn't without its fruition. Every day she learned more about what had happened in her absence, about the fall of Sabertooth's guildhall that destroyed the city below, about the city being rebuilt elsewhere. As more information came to light Kara began to cope more. She worked harder, saving enough jewels to get herself a motorbike that would allow her to travel the long distance she had ahead of her considerably quicker. She'd even had enough there to get the ignition specially designed so that magical power alone wouldn't suffice; an amethyst key specifically crafted by her own hand was the only way to get the thing started.
Despite the quickened travel though, it still took a good few weeks to get here. And now that she was here she realised how daunting a task this really was; how was she going to find the Sabertooth guildhall in a city of this size, with absolutely no hints as to where it was located? It was here that she realised she had no other choice. She'd avoided taverns and inns so far; they remind her too much of Marick, and remembering him right now hurt too much. She couldn't think about that or she might not complete her task. But now she had no choice. There was no better place to get information, especially given the notoriety Sabertooth's guild members had for drinking. And who better to tell her where the guildhall was than a member of the guild itself?
And so here she was in front of the Red Dragon Inn. The name was different to the inn that Marick had built years ago, but the resemblance was uncanny. It made this all the more difficult. Kara slapped her cheeks with both hands a couple of times. "Pull yourself together girl...you've come this far!" she hissed under her breath, scolding herself for her hesitation. But as soon as she looked back up at the door again her heart raced and a nausea began setting into her stomach. Nonetheless she fought back and stepped through the door - only to freeze in shock in the doorway, not moving an inch; it was EXACTLY the same. The layout of the bar, the stools, even the smell of the varnished wood mixed with that stench of stale ale and food that, on another day, would have Kara drooling. But today it all had the opposite effect as, after a few seconds, she ran back out of the door, around the corner of the inn and promptly vomited, choking back the tears that were threatening to stream down her face. Threatening but not succeeding. She refused to break down now. But could she really do this?