<em>The patron turns and shrugs. From the looks of it, he's a rough-and-tumble warrior himself, a human veteran of war.<br/><br/>"Well, not the kind of one that's a swordsmaster, that's for certain. From the display she put on last night, and the look of the shifter with the kukri's who was with her, they don't need much in the way of muscle. She did, however, seem to be in serious negotiations with that pair over there, though."<br/><br/>He jerks his thumb over at the aasimar, and, to Eliza's surpise, now sitting next to what seems to be an equally pretty, though obviously more mischevious tiefling. Wearing a simple black leather collar, a tight black sleeveless shirt that goes only to her midriff and cut-offs silks pants. The small red horns peeking from beneath her raven black tresses match her eyes, which gleam playfully as she snatches a bit of fruit from her companion, and her pale skin makes her seem almost ghostly, even in the beams of daylight that pour through the shuttered window. While not quite as voluptuous as her companion, she is taller, and, Eliza can tell, a tad more darkly elegant... at least when not playing around.</em>