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<li data-xf-list-type="ul">Taverns were often lively places at all times of the day. If one needed a tall cold glass of mead to keep them going, this was definitely the place to come. Even if they didn't want to drink, and needed a bed on which to rest, or a meal to fill their stomachs, a tavern was definitely the best bet one would have during times such a these. Indeed, that was the reason this particular young woman stopped by the tavern here. She purchased a room, some food, and a drink. After eating her fill, she decided to linger for a while and enjoy her drink. In the middle of said enjoyment, she had been approached by several men, all of whom were trying to hit on her, she guessed. It was hard for her to be sure as none of them could see her face because of the positioning of her cloak. At the very best, they could see her mouth, her soft pink lips, and a braid of red hair. Definitely nothing more.<br/>
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There was an easy way to settle this and get some enjoyment out of it though, she guessed. She purposed a drinking game, a fairly simple one. They would arm wrestle. It was a very masculine contest, one of strength an not necessarily skill. Already, she had the men hooked, but a simple contest of physical strength would be no fun for her. So then, she suggested that the winner take a shot every single time they won, and that should anyone of the three men or herself give up at any point, their little game would be over. If she were human, such a contest may have been fair. However, she weren't. What was more, alcohol was like water to her body. Without drinking large amounts of it, she didn't even feel a thing. Needless to say, the odds were definitely in her favor.<br/>
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BLAM!<br/>
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Another victory for the young woman. Her grin broadened as she took yet another shot, sitting the small glass on the table to be refilled by one of the men who had earlier given up. <span class="fixed-color" style="color:#bf0040">"You wanna go again, or should we be callin' it quits now,"</span> she asked. Not once had her arm touched the table. She had to admit that the men were strong enough to actually make her use a considerable bit of her strength. If this went on for a few more hours, it was very likely that she could have fallen to one of them. The amount of time that would take would be more than any of them were willing to put into such matters.<br/>
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<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#ffffff">"Bah. . .let's go. My mood is ruined now,"</span> the last of the three said, getting up and leaving the table.<br/>
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<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#bf0040">"Suit yerselves then," </span>the cloaked girl shrugged. She quickly took hold of the shot glass and drained the contents of it down her throat, enjoying the tingly feeling it gave as it went down. <span class="fixed-color" style="color:#bf0040"><i>Maybe just a bit more. . .</i></span> she thought, looking at the empty class in her hand. For a several minutes, she sat, stared, and thought, finally deciding sometime later that a bit more wouldn't hurt anything. Another bottle, and she would stop for the day. Yes, Itsuki was cutting down on drinking, trying to quite altogether. Most of her kind would have laughed at the notion. Ogres loved to drink, quite a bit actually. They drank, and they drank, and they drank, and they fought, and they drank. It was the way of their land. Until the King of Darkness took over. They tended to drink more and fight less these days, fearing an execution with them as the main attraction. Such a thing had nothing to do with why she was here now though. No, far from it.<br/>
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Such thoughts had no place now that she was far away from Lassadar. She had heard that the City of Light had fallen, and that was the reason for the everlasting Eclipse, and knew that no place would truly be safe from the grip of King Vayne, but she was doing her best to stay out of as many conflicts as possible. At one point in her life, she had indeed fought for the dark army, not out of loyalty or really necessity. After a night of drinking, she found herself on a wagon with a bunch of her friends being carted off to be armed and given the law of the land, as it stood now. She was of no importance, rather, she was mere canon fodder on the field, those who would have died and not have been missed at all. That was the only reason she was able to escape their ranks without being killed. It was a big risk indeed.<br/>
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Itsuki returned to the bar sometime in the middle of her thoughts and purchased another bottle for herself. Sitting beside her was a young woman who looked rather. . .out of place here. Nobility maybe? She definitely looked as if she had some money to her name. <span class="fixed-color" style="color:#bf0040">"Oh, 'cuse me,"</span> she said, taking a seat beside the young woman. The young ogre figured it was at least polite to say something to the lady sitting beside her.[/list:u][/list:u]</li>
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