Lucasta simply stared as the brutish creature lowered himself to look at her. She came slowly to a stand, taking a sip of her water once more. One hand gripped her spear and she removed the belt around it. But she simply leaned it back against the wall, and parted the button of her messenger bag. Then she moved away from the table, looking back at the tall broad Orc.<br/><br/>"Elves are words, and wisdom alike. You are only too pea-brained to understand, for all your feral mind thinks of is physical dominance. It is your race's downfall, as even my own people have a downfall themselves. But it is useless to argue with you. You're a drunken sack of taut muscle and asinine resistance."<br/><br/>She raised her hand and from the bag jumped a streak of brown that leaped to her hand like a bullet. But when it was stopped, her fingers wrapped around it, it was a spellbook. The nimble and agile elf grinned, holding it at her side and knowing that without elemental magic, but instead magic in most other fields of expertise, she held an advantage. Protection and poisoning spells, even a shapeshifting spell or two. She touched her fingers over the cover of the Arclight, absorbing her power in a light of lime swirls that sank into her skin shortly after appearing.<br/><br/>"A bar fight is not what I seek. I expect you to sit back down and let us both take our drinks peacefully. Otherwise, this night will not be a pleasant one for the either of us."