This is set in the world of WW's "Exalted".
The door opened with a creak, the rectangle of sunlight widening with the sound. A small shadow appeared in the doorway, about two thirds the height of the frame, very slender, and very definitely female – there was no mistake possible about the slender, long-legged shape, the way her arms were held, as slender and long as her legs, and the curtain of hair forbidding a good look at her neck with the light in her back. The regular patrons at the Green Wreath could not help but blink in surprise at the new arrival; it was rare this inn of traveling merchants, peasants, rogues and other poor and/or unsavory to shady characters was entered by a lone girl, certainly not one as pretty as this one. The door closed behind her, allowing the patrons in the common room to get their first good look at the woman walking up towards the counter in a self-assured, determined stride.
There was a decided amount of whistles as she passed in all her 5’3 glory, with wavy auburn hair cascading down her shoulders to the small of her back and playful fringes almost getting entangled in her long eyelashes. Those enshrined a pair of soft, luminous brown puppy-dog eyes set slightly above the centerline of her pleasant, well-formed face, with the tip of her cute snub nose slightly below that equator. Her small mouth displayed a smile at the attention received, her red lips parting to reveal white, regular teeth. The girl held her head high on her slender neck as she passed, her small, round breasts bouncing under her black tunic from the spring in her step, while a belt, made of copper disks the area of her palms, held the soft cloth of her tunic clinging tightly to her well-defined form. The bottom of the tunic was a plaited skirt ending at mid-thigh, with a black hose more accentuating than covering her slender legs – and even her walking boots seemed to be made as much for show as for practicality, nicely complementing the ensemble.
As the gazes of the assorted men folk followed the lines of the woman upwards again, a few things were noticed marring – or enhancing, depending on taste – her looks: She had a finely crafted long bow slung over her shoulder, with a quiver of arrows on her belt beside the hilt of a rather expensive-looking rapier; around her neck, a necklace displayed predator teeth, some of them rather large and looking to have been taken from quite dangerous owners; her pair of hairclips was fashioned from Austrech beaks; finally, the orichalcon bracers on her underarms, while serving no discernible function aside from looking rather gorgeous with their intricate weave of orichalcon and jade strands, did look like First Age work, and probably were obtained under great personal danger to their current owner.
That display of personal prowess allowed her to reach the bar without a single pinch, slap to her bottom or other form of harassment, as even the most daring men in the room thought twice about their chances for survival when literally hitting on a girl with such adornments. Her own slender hand came down with a loud smack on the counter, calling the barkeep’s attention to his new customer. “A pitcher of your best red and a plate of roast, Goodman. And hurry – I have an appointment to keep.”
The door opened with a creak, the rectangle of sunlight widening with the sound. A small shadow appeared in the doorway, about two thirds the height of the frame, very slender, and very definitely female – there was no mistake possible about the slender, long-legged shape, the way her arms were held, as slender and long as her legs, and the curtain of hair forbidding a good look at her neck with the light in her back. The regular patrons at the Green Wreath could not help but blink in surprise at the new arrival; it was rare this inn of traveling merchants, peasants, rogues and other poor and/or unsavory to shady characters was entered by a lone girl, certainly not one as pretty as this one. The door closed behind her, allowing the patrons in the common room to get their first good look at the woman walking up towards the counter in a self-assured, determined stride.
There was a decided amount of whistles as she passed in all her 5’3 glory, with wavy auburn hair cascading down her shoulders to the small of her back and playful fringes almost getting entangled in her long eyelashes. Those enshrined a pair of soft, luminous brown puppy-dog eyes set slightly above the centerline of her pleasant, well-formed face, with the tip of her cute snub nose slightly below that equator. Her small mouth displayed a smile at the attention received, her red lips parting to reveal white, regular teeth. The girl held her head high on her slender neck as she passed, her small, round breasts bouncing under her black tunic from the spring in her step, while a belt, made of copper disks the area of her palms, held the soft cloth of her tunic clinging tightly to her well-defined form. The bottom of the tunic was a plaited skirt ending at mid-thigh, with a black hose more accentuating than covering her slender legs – and even her walking boots seemed to be made as much for show as for practicality, nicely complementing the ensemble.
As the gazes of the assorted men folk followed the lines of the woman upwards again, a few things were noticed marring – or enhancing, depending on taste – her looks: She had a finely crafted long bow slung over her shoulder, with a quiver of arrows on her belt beside the hilt of a rather expensive-looking rapier; around her neck, a necklace displayed predator teeth, some of them rather large and looking to have been taken from quite dangerous owners; her pair of hairclips was fashioned from Austrech beaks; finally, the orichalcon bracers on her underarms, while serving no discernible function aside from looking rather gorgeous with their intricate weave of orichalcon and jade strands, did look like First Age work, and probably were obtained under great personal danger to their current owner.
That display of personal prowess allowed her to reach the bar without a single pinch, slap to her bottom or other form of harassment, as even the most daring men in the room thought twice about their chances for survival when literally hitting on a girl with such adornments. Her own slender hand came down with a loud smack on the counter, calling the barkeep’s attention to his new customer. “A pitcher of your best red and a plate of roast, Goodman. And hurry – I have an appointment to keep.”
