Soren looked around the Tavern, his hair stood on end as he felt a swath of eyes fall over him. The smell of stale ale and sweat hung in the air, with a concerning hint of iron mixed in. He felt like prey at a watering hole meant for predators, as hungry eyes stared him down, undressing him with their lustful gaze. He knew this tavern's reputation for catering to adventurers, but he never expected how many of them would be women. He eyed the female warriors warily, they seemed to be comparing their muscles, accentuating them, as if to intimidate or entice. Soren could not help but feel a mixture of both. Light chatter filled the air as the patrons went about their business, engaging in competitions of strength and comparing their ability to imbibe alcohol.
His lithe elven frame stood out against the rest of the patrons at the tavern. Standing at only 5'2", Soren was used to feeling short around his companions, however, with the sheer presence these adventurers held, he somehow felt even smaller. He made his way to an empty booth, and sat down, resting his weary soles after a long day's journey. He cursed the creaking floorboards, signaling his every step. Without companions, the number of contracts available was light, and their difficulty often exceeded a solo's capacity. While he had come here hoping to find allies to work with, the brutish atmosphere made him feel weak, and he sunk further into his booth, unsure of what to do with himself. The wooden table felt rough to his smooth hands.
He sat restlessly for a few minutes, hands squirming uncomfortably between his legs, as he tried to make himself smaller, hoping not to draw any more attention to himself. His hopes were quickly dashed however by the sound of approaching boots, making their way across the stale wooden floor. Looking up, he caught the sight of a woman who made his heart pound swiftly, whether with fear or arousal he could not tell.
Above him stood Naz, a 6'4" half-orc warrior. Worn leather armor clung to her frame, accentuating both her lean muscle and the fullness of her figure. "Well well well, what's a little thing like you doing here?" She asks as she slides into the seat across from him. The booth creaks under her weight, the old wood feeling the burden of her tall muscular frame. Soren feels a boot playfully poke at his own under the table.
Soren sits up, straightening his back and failing to hide a blush from the forwardness of his new companion. "I am an adventurer Miss, my last party left me, so I am hoping to find a new one here". His nervousness is apparent, mixed with a twinge of shame for being abandoned. He wrung his hands nervously under the table, shifting uncomfortably against the wooden bench.
"Please, call me Naz" she cocks an eyebrow at the small elf "or Ma'am if you're trying to be polite. Now, tell me, why would your friends up and abandon you to the wolves out here?" She looks around the Tavern, gesturing to her fellow patrons.
"Well," he starts a little flustered, clearly embarrassed, "they told me I was too weak. They wanted me up front, holding the line! I mean look at me, I'm quick with my fingers but I don't have the stamina to take a pounding on the frontline." Soren let out an exasperated sigh, for weeks he had tried to get his teammates to utilize his skills, instead of forcing him to fill their needs. Man up Soren. Take the front Soren. Why are you so pathetic? Their cruel words passed through his mind, as he quickly wiped away some water forming in his eyes.
"Well little one, you may be in luck," Naz said, leaning forward on the table, inching her face closer and closer to Soren's. She examined his delicate features, such a pretty boy, she thought to herself, I think I'll take him. "My group is down a member as is, and as you can see," she says, flexing her biceps ``I've got the strength covered" she grins, noting the effect her physique is having on this little twink, "but I am gonna need to see some proof of these fast hands, and nimble fingers of yours before we make anything official"
Soren fidgetted in his chair. He couldn't believe his luck that a party was approaching him so soon, yet he also worried, what if it was a trap? He eyed Naz, her lean muscles, accentuated by sleeves that looked a size too small, her confident smirk that betrayed two tiny tusks, and the eyes of a predator who stared at him like prey. He couldn't deny that deep down, if this was a trap, maybe he wanted to fall into it.
The pair continued their conversation, drifting towards small talk as the two began to learn more about each other. Naz ensured plenty of ale was shared, as she regaled Soren with tales of her and her party's heroics. He listened, enraptured by her, not only was she physically strong, but her strength of presence demanded his attention as well. They talked till last call, which shook Soren from his trance.
"Shit" he muttered, perking up like a prairie dog, looking towards where rooms were booked, and cursing his luck seeing They closed earlier than the bar. "I forgot to get a room for the night", he bites his lip with concern, unsure of what he is going to do for the night.
"Not to worry, my little mouse, you can share mine for the night, besides, if we are going to be working together we might as well get used to it," she said, standing up from their booth. She took his hand, not waiting for his response, and began dragging him towards the room she had rented. "My other partner is coming into town tomorrow, we can meet her in the morning, make this whole thing official"
"If you think that's alright ma'am," he said, being dragged along by the powerful arms of Naz.
