"This can't be real"..she thinks to herself as she steps up to the counter. "Excuse me, Sir? Where am I?"
The dwarf simple smiles at her, "Why, m'lady..you are in the Spreadlegged Harlot Tavern. Now, can I get you anything to drink?"
She shakes her head and slides onto a bar stool, a voice inside her answers the question. "Yes...your blood would be sweet upon my tongue," but she says nothing. This voice was not her own, it was deep..it was...his voice. She shivered as an icey breeze swept over her.
