Enter The Liontaur
Someone asked me to write about someone entering a bar... I couldn't resist showing you a snapshot.
The bar was rowdy, too many drunk men, elves, dwarves, orcs... a typical sight for any bar in downtown elftown with a storm outside. Enough for you to be prepared for anything.
Anything? You must be mistaken.
The door opened and a female entered, pale skinned arm falling to her side as she stepped in, blonde hair falling over her shoulders, a fine drift of gold in oily orange light flickering up it like fire, light shooting from behind her through the door as she paused in her walk, one furred paw darting backwards to push to door to, shutting the sound of the thunder out in the sudden dead silence.
The liontaur held herself regally and started to walk through the crowd towards the bar, firelight sliding over smooth sandy flanks to the tail whose brown tuft flicked from side to side as she slunk past a horde of staring eyes, shadows compared to her fire.
Once she reached the bar her head turned to the channel that remained between her and the door and the watchers. Her reaction was a glare as fierce as the powerful lioness quarters seemed. At her glare the crowd turned back to their occupations and the general murmur restarted as her legs folded and she sat, bringing her down to the height of a tall woman.
Her elbows folded on the bar with a slight sigh, ignoring the rainwater sliding off her fur as she spoke in a soft voice that carried an undertone of a weary traveller, even if she was an unusual and unusually comely one for this kind of place.
"Do you do food here as well as drink or am I going to have to order the strongest spirit you've got?"
"We only have drink," grunted the bar tender, "You need something warm? Try Dragontongue if you think you can take it, but I warn you, it's a man's drink..."
That got a spark in the woman's eye, though whether it was mischief or anger was questionable, "You think because I'm a woman I can't handle it?"
"It's mighty strong..."
"I'm a liontaur," she replied, leaning forwards with a grin, "and I consider that
a challenge." There was a catcall from behind her and one dainty eyebrow rose as she looked at the human, a dead silence falling before she next spoke. "Were you going to say something?"
"I'm a top drinker here, you can't handle no Dragontongue!" he gloated as Sara appraised him.
"You'd fall over at the first tankard." Was her statement before turning back to the bar, a clear dismissal before the man lurched forwards and grabbed her flank, earning himself a slap that sent him sprawling.
"Not the fur, leave the fur alone," she said before picking up the tankard of fiery orange fluid that almost glowed in the oil lamp light and admiring it before taking a gulp and smiling. "This is good stuff."
"Listen to me when I try and get your attention!" Yelled the man, getting up from the floor, "No-one insults me, knocks me to the floor and ignores me!"
"Oh brother, it's a hothead..." muttered the liontaur under her breath, then having finished her sip put it carefully down on the bar and turned her upper body to look at him, left arm propped on the bar as she cooly raised an eyebrow. Definitely drunk, definitely stupid and definitely trouble. Best to get rid of him now.
"Does he often cause trouble?" she said to the bar keeper, tilting her head towards him as her other thumb jerked towards the man. There was a loud protest from the man as the barkeeper nodded, "Brawls are expected round here though," they commented nonchalantly.
"Personally I'd prefer there wasn't one, look after my drink," she said, legs unfolding so she towered above the man with two authoritative steps forward. "Do you want to shut up or get out?" she asked calmly, arms loose by her side.
"You pickin' a fight, bitch?"
"Correction, I'm solving one, and I'm a liontaur, not a bitch." Her arm flashed out as he lunged forwards, clean sideways sweep sending the man sprawling as she walked over, stopping sideways to him and looking down over her shoulder. Her face was in deep, terrifying shadow as the light behind her made her seem on fire with repressed anger.
The man stood and found the ability to walk in a straight line, though he missed the door and was assisted out with a dwarf's boot.
Sara returned to her place by the bar amid a few murmured congratulations as she sat, nodding to them as she settled down. "Drink on the house!" The barman called, raising a cheer from the crowd.
Amid the now pouring congratulations Sara smiled calmly and knowingly. The cat had well and truly got the cream.