Behind the Blazen Inn and the hidden from the view of the streets is a bleak alleyway of overturned trash cans and the back doors of neighbouring buildings. The place is dimly lit behind the low buildings and at night is enlightened only by a flickering lamp on either end.
However, the Inn is not in a rough area like Dwarf Heights or Orc Side, so the alley is not altogether that threatening, but nevertheless it should not be ventured into alone.
Back to the Blazen Inn.

---

It was dark. The sun had set some time ago, and the Inn had closed its doors to customers. The moon struggled to shine its half-moon light through the veil of clouds that hung in the sky, shielding the stars from view.

Willowharp nudged the back door open and heaved a bag of trash behind her, which was thrown in the general direction of a trash can. Instead it crashed noisily aginst the wall and then toppled the bin beneath it.

She dusted her hands off and wrinkled her nose in disgust at the smell.

Then came the chill. A familiar shudder that the elf experienced whenever her werewolf senses betrayed the prescence of something near. She looked up and down the alley, and then along the roves of the buildings. Nothing, and not a scent either. But the dark could hide particular things quite effectively; evils that endured in the twilight and the moonlight.

Then the lamps began to flicker and fade, and the alley became utterly black.

Willowharp stood there, calm but alert. Her nose tingled with the scent of something not quite distinguishable. She waited and let her eyes adjust to the darkness. "I know you're there." she said after a while, in a voice that was icy calm.

Then the figure came into view; in the pale light of the moon a silhouette stood atop a roof, glaring. It was hooded, and a coat flickered for a moment in the breeze. For those few seconds, Willowharp noted the blade that the figure had attemtped to conceal, but the wind had revealed.

Willowharp leaped on to the roof near the figure, noting the blade, her hands quickly shifting to powerful paws as she landed. "You really want to put that blade away, friend." she said in a low dangerous tone.

The figure drew a sharp breath, and muttered something in a strange tongue. Then it extended out the arm with the blade towards Willowharp, who felt a queer sensation when the knife was raised - like it was poison, or something.

Willowharp didn't like the feel she got from the blade, and crouched back a fraction of an inch. She growled, somewhere between an elf and wolf. "Why are you here?"

The figure scowled - its cold face came to view - and it showed the two extended canines behind the top lip. It swung the knife wildly; a metallic whine as the blade caught the air and cut it.

Willowharp leaned back and yowled softly as the blade came within a hairs breath from her. This assailent was good, she could feel it in his movements. Nothing was half hearted. She finished her transformation and snarled with a now lycanthrope maw, revealing a row of pointed teeth. She lashed out with one hand and raked her claws over the arm that held the blade, hoping to make the assailant drop it.

Having taken the heavy blow from the werewolf, the vampire dropped relented its grip on the handle, and let it fall clinking loudly to the edge of the roof, and off into the alley below. The beast meanwhile screeched murderously and cradled the bleeding arm, before stumbling off the edge itself, landing in a pile of trash below in a greatly embarassing calamity. It snarled up at Willowharp.

Willowharp glowered down at it and snarled back. She kept an eye on where the weapon dropped and leaped down on the beast below, striving to pin its shoulders to the ground.

The move was successful, the vampire caught beneath the werewolf. Only when the assailant tried to bite Willowharp on the neck did she relenquish, allowing it to struggle free and scurry up the opposite wall, and jump at her furiously.

Willowharp bellowed a roar of canine power and batted the vampire away with a mighty swipe of her elongated arm.

Soaring limply through the air the vampire was sent back against the wall. There was a soft crunch! as its skull fractured against the brickwork, and the beast slid down and slumped, a smear of blood running from the wound on the back of its head.

Willowharp lumbered over and hauled up the battered vampire. She carried him carefully under one arm and went back inside the Blazen Inn.