by Max Barry

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Region: Fallout DnD

The fallout frontier wrote:"Whiskey coming right up. 12 caps please," the Bill-tender said as he reached under the counter for a room-temperature bottle of whiskey, and a concerningly cloudy glass. A broken nose and a bruised body were a common sight for the regulars of the downtrodden bar, but a young woman striding through the bar floor coolly with no concern of the blood pouring from her gashed hand and the dangerous environment surrounding her certainly raised a few eyebrows. Some - the less drunk and more perceptive - took notice of the scars on her body and her determined expression and resolved to avoided eye contact and continued with their activities. However, one less perceptive and far more inebriated drunkard saw the dangerous girl as endearing. "Hey," a man walked in front of Lilith's path with a slick expression - or at least the slickest a drunk could pull off. "What brought a pretty lady like you to this two-bit bar, eh? Care for me to buy you a drink?" Behind the man was the bar where Marcy and Ivan were ordering their drinks, but it seemed it would take much more than a plea for the swooning, drunken man to move aside and let Lilith pass to reconvene with her team.


Marcy pushes twelve caps over the counter to the bartender and takes a big swig of the whiskey before setting it down. She closes her eyes, and just for a moment, she hears something. A voice. Someone that she has known. She couldn't make out what was said before it faded away. She slammed her fist on the bar, frustrated at coming so close to reaching some piece of her past, but alas, it slipped away again.

Her frustration continued to consume her as she turned and saw the man blocking Lilith. While Marcy felt the need to take out some anger, and would love to punch someone, she felt the need to sit back and watch. This was Lilith's problem, and Marcy wants to see if Lilith can solve it.

Bootlegger's Tavern, Morgantown-

That was the one the word that came to Lilith's mind when this man dared to approach her. She was already angry and this heretic's foolish attempts at trying to seduce her with drinks was worsening her already foul mood. Although every bit of her wanted to drag this man back to the shrine she made in the wood and give her god a real sacrifice, but she refrained. There was far too many witnesses here and people would grow suspicious if they never saw that man again. She tried to contain her temper, and in a sweet but strained voice she would say,

"I'm sorry, but I don't partake in drinking. I'm actually here to meet up with my friends."

She hoped this explanation would suffice and make this cretin would go away and stop bothering her. But she knows his type, and she knows they're far too drunk and stupid to understand anything other then violence. She put one hand near her thigh, so if need be, she could pull out one of her daggers.

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