The dark-haired lass, leaning against the bar, tossed a peanut Boo's way, then turned to place an order.
"A glass of serpent cider, please," she said, calmly, as she stalled for time to compose her face before turning back to the lads.
Kitten was a misnomer, a fond name given by her father who had been thoroughly drunk on the day she was born. Any fool who teased her about it shortly felt her "claws", the sharp daggers she carried secreted about her person. A ninja wannabe, she'd dyed all her leather armor black in imitation of the gear she hoped she'd wear someday. Her mother was less than thrilled to find the rest of the family's clothes an ebony shade as well.
By the point she turned around with her drink, Ditka had gotten back up off the floor, brushing sawdust off his armor and trying to work out a particularly uncomforable dent out of his plate trousers.
"Who said I didn't mean to knock this lummock over?" she asked in a sultry voice. "And what brings you to this two-bit tavern, oh Adam the Magnificent?".
Even Boo looked askance at Adam Mage. While those purple velvet robes did show off his finer points (especially the curly toed slippers), the crackle of his magical aura was rather subdued tonight, quieter than the frequent rumble of mugs being pushed back and forth across the oaken counter.
Adam glared, then casually flicked his fingers and set a torchlight spell going in Kitten's black tresses. She frantically beat the flames out, and the overall stench within the tavern grew worse with the odor of burnt hair. Soot marked her cheeks in rather an attractive way. She downed her cider in a gulp, then turned to Serath, saying....
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