<em>"Monsters be that bad, eh?  Sounds like my kind of sport!"</em><br/><br/>If she took any offense to his assumptions about her character, she certainly didn't show it.  In all likelihood she wasn't the sort to be fussy over what went down her gullet, so long as it wasn't poisonous or still trying to kill her.  She accepted the pitchers gladly, grabbing the first in her free hand, tipping her head back, and pouring it gulp by eager gulp past her tusk-lined jaws before carefully hitting it back on the counter, empty to the last drop.<br/><br/><em>"Excellent stuff!"</em>she crooned, licking her lips.<em>"Last place I stopped by, I swear across my gizzards they laced the drinks with tar.  Filled ye up somethin' fierce, but not the sort of shit you want comin' back up on ya."</em><br/><br/>Seemingly content to let the first drink settle before attempting the next, the woman settled herself a bit more comfortably against the polished wood and gave the bartender a more scrutinizing glance.<em>"Tell me more about these monsters.  Ya know what they are?  Manticores?  Wyverns?  Clearly ain't somethin' native to these parts, nor somethin' with regular migration paths that cut through this way."</em>