<div class="floatleft">(http://orig08.deviantart.net/3fea/f/2017/185/3/5/lyari01_by_ravagedgirl-dbf59tn.jpg)</div><strong>Location:</strong>In Elisa's lap at the bar<br/><strong>Company:</strong>With Elisa. Duh.<br/><strong>Attire:</strong>Typical wench corset and white/offwhite dress with sleeves hanging off her arms.<br/><strong>Approachability:</strong>Busy, but open if needed as head barmaid and owner of the Tavern<br/><hr/>To say it was a surprise that Elisa did make the first move would be an understatement.  Lyari was absolutely certain this would be a circumstance where she'd need to push the envelope even though her companion clearly wanted it just as much.  She was quite pleased to be wrong, however.  In fact, the elf's own head spun just a bit.  Elisa was a complex mix of masculine pride and bravery, but feminine trepidation and grace as well.  She was something very seldomly encountered when finally crossing the intimate line with another.  The woman gave just as much of a push back against Elisa, giving her something to press against with her firm, demanding lips.  She snaked a hand up the paladin's side and held her gently, trying not to be too demanding herself.  As much as she wanted it herself, Elisa's wishes were more important.<br/><br/>"MMmmmmm," Lyari moaned as their mouths parted.  She offered her own tongue to writhe against Elisa's, reveling in her taste.  She pressed her ample chest into Elisa's own modest yet magnificently toned one.  She could feel how fast the other's heart was pounding, which only excited her more.  Forgetting the rest of the tavern and how many eyes could be on them, Lyari moved like a feline and slid up into Elisa's lap.  She would find the elf like others of her race, remarkably light and agile.  Her tongue pushed against Elisa's, begging her to take hers over as hard as she liked.<br/><br/><hr/><div class="floatleft">(http://orig09.deviantart.net/eed9/f/2017/185/3/a/chariss01_by_ravagedgirl-dbf59u2.jpg)</div><strong>Location:</strong>At the small changing room and armament storage area at the back of the Tavern<br/><strong>Company:</strong>With Viktor<br/><strong>Attire:</strong>Loose white and brown dwarfen girl dress, tight across the bust due to her ample size<br/><strong>Approachability:</strong>Busy<br/><hr/>Chariss' eyes lit up when she realized Viktor did indeed want her help disrobing.  Helping a big, strong warrior take off armor was like unwrapping a birthday gift.  She could only hope her present was as big as she wanted.  "It's crafting is very nice. Was the smith a freelance artisan, or one specifically contracted by your order?"  More than just common small talk, Chariss' dwarf heritage kept a healthy love of anything metal and handmade firm within her heart.  As the pieces came off, she took a moment to look and admire the work that went into the polished silver carapace.  With as much care as a mother handling her child, the woman placed Viktor's armor across a wooden strut specifically made for storage.  She started to admire the man more and more and the armor less and less the more of him she could see.  The musk he gave off only made it easier to keep her eyes on him.  Despite his attitude thus far and standing with the religious cleric order, Chariss was beginning to appreciate the more masculine side of Viktor.<br/><br/>The dwarf reached into Viktor's bag and produced the shirt he'd spoken of.  Instead of handing it straight to him, she stood with it and smiled.  "Are you sure you want this old thing, Sir Viktor? I bet you'd be much more comfortable the way you are. And Alexandra would be quite happy as well."  Chariss arched her eyebrows while her gaze ran over the man's form, hoping he would finally loosen up for the night.  Of course she was not above plying him with strong drink to get the same effect.