12th Day of Summer 23rd Bell The Herald's Arms "C'mon! You can do it!" Edreina shouted, slamming her palm down onto the bar top. It's well-polished surface created a satisfying smack as her hand fell upon it, her hand was left stinging, but it seemed to have its intended effect as the man before her downed his fourth ale. The way that he swayed told Edreina that he would not make it through his fifth, the one that would allow him to match the champion's record. And he would certainly not be able to even touch the sixth it would take to beat him. The first floor of the Arms was loud, rowdy. Some girls of the comfort girls had grown annoyed that men were spending so much time drinking and so little mizas on their company. But, as more men were emasculated by the champion, more were heading over to the working girls, looking to prove once more that they were, indeed, men. Oh and this champion of the game of drink? She was a tall, opulently built woman with a full grin despite the five ales she had already consumed. Her brown eyes were matched nearly exactly by her short-cut hair, trimmed to rest just above her double chin. She had a throaty, tobacco crisped voice that always seemed to dance on the edge of a rumbling whisper. To Edreina, her gender would have been unclear were it not for her bright red dress and equally vivacious makeup. But then again, this city seemed to be full of oddities. Would a man dressed as a woman not be another of them? She was brought back to present as the man keeled over out of his chair, sprawling out on the floor, green-faced. He had lost. So, his mizas remained upon the ever-growing pile beside the woman, and in the pocket of the Herald. "Who is next!?" The woman boomed with a laugh, arms spread wide in invitation. Edreina could not help but smile to herself as she gathered the defeated foe's mugs and set them aside to be washed and reused at a later date. When she returned, she rested upon her elbows on the bar, blue eyes tempting any man to step forward and accept the woman's challenge. But, sadly, it seemed as if they were all more intrigued by the oh so interesting quality of their shoes. OOCIF you win, the amount shall be decided upon by the moderator. |