Yes.

Walking over to the beautiful blond woman, he took a seat across form her, causing her to arch her brow in confusion. “What can I do for you ****?” She asked curiously.

“My reputation proceeds me.” He answered surprised.

“Indeed.”

“I am headed to the Croft Manor, and could use someone to watch my back.” He told her.

“I heard **** was a lone wolf, you must think the rumors of that place are true to ask for help.” She smiled softly, her piercing gaze taking him in.

“Not just anyone, someone who understands what's at stake, and you strike me as a woman a match to my own lineage.” He replied. She arched her brow, once again confused. “My name is Artur Croft.” He said, shedding light upon his meaning.

“Anyone can make that claim.” She shrugged, though her posture had shifted just slightly, indicating her perked interest.

Lowering the cowl, he unbuckled his face mask, and set it on the table, revealing his messy blond hair, and deep blue eyes. “Only one would be right.” He smiled.

“I have expensive tastes.” She smiled, a twinkle in her eye. With a smile, he tossed her a small purse of gold. Tucking it away she smiled broadly. “It seems fortune favors me tonight.”

“We leave now.” He said standing up. “You have a name?”

“Tara Thorne.” The woman smiled, when his eyes widened slightly.

“Favored, indeed.” He nodded.

The two of them boarded the stage coach that had delivered the letter, and settled in for a long ride through the dark night. The two watched one another for an hour, without either speaking a word. Finally the woman yawned, stretching her arms above her head, her large breast jiggling enticingly. “I am going to sleep.” She smiled laying down across the plush bench, like a content kitten, and closing her eyes.

Artur woke with a start, as a loud crack tore the air, and the stage coach tipped over. The next moments were confusion and pain, as the coach rolled end over end, throwing their occupants all around the inside, till the door burst open, and the two were thrown through. Artur went flying through the air, narrowly missing several tree branches, before hitting the ground and rolling to a stop.

Artur fluttered in and out of consciousness for a few minutes, before finally regaining himself. The young Croft knew he was hurt, and badly. He also knew he had been through worse, and would survive. Putting his gloved hands on the earth he tried to push up, but immediately fell face first. His right hand hurt like hell. Twisting to get a look, he couldn't see the damage, but was certain some of his fingers were broken. Trying again, he groaned in pain as his left shoulder protested.

This time he made it to his knees. Catching his breath he glanced around the carnage. The driver was no where to be seen, but Tara was pinned beneath the coach, moaning in pain. She must have been thrown clear, only to have it roll to a stop on top of her. Her left arm, and leg were pinned, but the rest of her was free and clear, though clearly bruised and battered.

“Help me.” She pleaded, stretching her hand toward him.