[center][img]https://fontmeme.com/permalink/210309/5689b6395b8279d1015505309adaa1f2.png[/img][/center] [indent][indent][indent][color=gray][sub][right][color=#A84B5E][b]Location:[/b][/color] Wayfarer's Retreat -- The City of Thorinn, Aetheria[/right][/sub][/color] [hr] [i]Good Luck![/i] Rael clenched the fist that was holding onto the tankard as the denizen filled her up, her eyes coldly reflecting upon the man who had just bumped her in the shoulder. No, that wasn’t the death sentence. The death sentence was presuming her to be a noob—to not recognizing her. She had spent a lot of time to build her reputation as one of the most vilified and begrudgingly respected players in the world of Aetheria and not even the infamous [i]Graves[/i] knew who she was? No. It was a slight. It was intentional. Her brows narrowed and her façade of being in a good mood faded. She smirked, a long fang appearing in full view as she decided to follow Graves to the table to the spellcaster she didn’t recognize instead of returning to the conversation with Alja and Kalie. IN a few moments, Rael saw that the meek witch girl was selling sandwiches, for a smile. It was stupid. Was she pretending to be a denizen shilling for wayfarer coin? Rael shook her head, it didn't matter. What did matter was Graves had decided in his infinite wisdom to torment her, but Rael wasn't a hero. She wasn't here to step in for the good of all sandwiches. This was [i]personal.[/i] Appearing behind Graves, she cleared her voice. [color=#A84B5E]“You know, you really shouldn’t be picking on NPC’s.”[/color] Whether he decided to turn his head or not, the result was the same as Rael turned the tankard of freezing cold ale on its side as the cool liquid dumped downward over his head. [color=#A84B5E]“Oops.”[/color] [/indent][/indent][/indent]