The Orc woman only nodded once,  in response to all of the Dryad's questions, and began to thread her way back through the crowd towards a half-open wallpanel to the east of the bar. As they entered, a rush of warmth billowed over the elf's head and the door closed with a pneumatic hiss.<br/><br/>"Sixpence will not like you," the bouncer finally muttered,  as they reached the landing outside a salvaged Panzer doorway. It almost looked like a trophy,  from where the elf stood...  A keepsake from the Last Great War. "Boss may not like you either. So please don't make Ira throw you back out into the rain, yes?"<br/><br/>Without waiting for an answer, the orc pushed open the heavy iron door with her Peacemaker arm,  and motioned for the elf to enter the Red Maid's lavish back office.<br/><br/>As far as work spaces go, the Maid's was one of the most...  Unique...  in London. It seemed that half of the decorations and furnishings were modified pieces of SS scrap from the occupation days,  and there was a trophy case filled with helmets...  All with the spike from the helmets crown shorn off and jammed into the helmets interior. Beside the case...  A heavy roadworks hammer.<br/><br/>And underneath the display sat the Red Maid herself. A tall, voluptuous human woman with deep brown hair and glowing hazel eyes, she was dressed for "work"  instead of business. And she had just the hint of a shark's smile on her lips.<br/><br/>"So...  Was that a job application or an attempt to drum up business somewhere else, Girly?" Something in the woman's quiet,  husky voice made the office fall silent as she spoke.