The waitress flinched as Little Tiger abused the table like that. The petite porcelain skinned girl stared at the uncouth swordswoman with starry eyes before remembering her place and scurrying off, slightly flustered. The officials grew quiet, even suspicious, some of them turning their heads to see who dared to disturb the Imperial Peace. Then again, they weren't likely to intervene against a trio of swordswomen - not without both hefty reason and considerable reinforcements. So things continued to stay quiet.
At least until a tall, wiry
Turuk woman entered. Her clothes had seen many better years, and she was in need of a bath as well. The handle of her war knife was well worn, matching calluses on her hands signifying she had no dearth of practice. The officials frowned at first, but knew better than to challenge her - for the same reasons they didn't react to Little Tiger's antics. A horde of rats might challenge a cat, but a lioness was far too much for them.
The woman spent a short moment looking around before spotting our three heroines. Without any hesitation at all, she approached their table and slammed the scabbard of her knife down on it, dislodging the few chopsticks that had weathered Little Tiger's assault.
"How much do you want for it? I know it's on that slave-ship and that you are protecting it." The thick Turuk accent and sultry voice made her words almost unrecognizable. Smells of salt, wine and blood were wreathed like a protective aura around her.
"The Horse Spirit Cleaver doesn't belong to your people anyways. I'll pay whatever you want for it."
This message was last edited by the GM at 08:40, Mon 21 Dec 2020.