[h2][center][color=f7941d]Lara Anderson[/color][/center][/h2]
[center]Mentions: [@Lovely Bones][/center]
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Ahh, drunkards. Don't you just love the noisy few? Lara sure did. The more of 'em existed, the more would visit her tavern, and the more money she made! This sounded like a rather large group. " Aye, we 'ave a group incomin', get yerselves ready. " Spoke the satyr, her voice thick with a Scottish accent, hands pointed towards a group of dwarves sat afront the bar. Each of them dressed in work attire, presumably waiters and waitresses of sorts. With a nod, they got to work, clearing off any tables that lay vacant, washin' up any dishes that needed to be washed, among many other things. There was a slight pause in production, as they all stopped and listened to the sounds of sobbing.. A look of concern appeared on the satyrs face. Were they.. Alright? Should she help? Of course, all thoughts of the sobbing man were interrupted by a boisterous man speaking out, assumably reassuring the man and his group. " We've got a loud one on our hands.. " Joked one of the waiters, causing the taverns keeper to let out a chuckle. " Aye. Seems so. No matter. We all rea- " The door was slammed open, interrupting her question. " A -.. Ah! Welcome! " The woman spoke, taking a moment to smooth out her dress, wishing to look somewhat presentable. A few brushes through that wild mane of hers would also help.. No matter. 

With how much noise the man made, she assumed he must be travelling with at [i]least[/i] thirty people.. Couldn't possibly be just him, [i]right? [/i] "