Board Thread:General Discussion/@comment-1789156-20140610204722/@comment-35390562-20140611010645

"Not on your life," Althea said unattentively. Normally, she'd have told the offending party to, putting it politely, fornicate with a cactus, or some form of threat. She owed her live to elves, however. More than that, actually. Once upon a time, they'd led her from a very dark path. A bartender walked over and asked if he could get her anything. Althea ordered the smoked salmon and a mead. A very northern dish, but Althea didn't expect them to have Tiefling grub. Hell, she barely expected anything more than bread and beer. She listened to Dole speak. The sooner he spoke, the sooner she could get done with the job. And the sooner she was done with the job, the sooner she could get paid and not have to work a slave's wage wherever she went.