The bartender opened his mouth, intent upon something he meant to say upon meeting the woman with the snake-face -- but his words and his resolve quickly failed him when faced with the two women, and he fetched the drinks instead.

The woman, meanwhile, followed with silent grace, and took a seat with an air of precise certainty. "I do enjoy a good ale now and then, thank you. We don't usually have such beverages in Maruiin. I find it pleasant." As she spoke, she removed the sling from across her chest and placed it carefully in her lap. She laid a hand over it protectively, and she smiled.

"The fire in your hand," she answered the last question simply, watching Catarina with steady eyes. "The broken stone, your quick defeat of an enemy that, if I may, by appearances should have bested you. The Dragon, as I was told, holds fire, destroys anything with a touch, and though by appearances may seem insignificant ... has never lost a battle. There are many accounts of the Dragon's description, but I'm very willing to believe there are some witnesses who will refuse to attest they were bested by a woman."

She gave a warm smile and thanks to the bartender as the mugs were set down. While the bartender blushed and scuttled off, the woman took a small sip and licked froth from her lip. "I've brought my part of the bargain," she mentioned offhandedly -- though now there was a slight guard to her voice. "Do you have yours?"

The Dragon, meanwhile, had noticed the interception of his intended guest. While lackeys exclaimed over their broken 'Boss' and the onlookers one by one decided they'd seen nothing, he studied the tavern door in a silent debate.

On one hand, he could just leave as he'd intended.

On the other...

"... Shit." He crept around the corner of the tavern, and though he couldn't see or hear anything inside, he waited for the inevitable.