Christie, looking for trouble

The infamous "Grey Witch" had run up quite a tab at the Ripped Bodice. Of course, Christie didn't quite know fully the extent of her reputation -- that part of her memory was still hazy. That didn't matter at the moment, though; she'd bought rounds for everyone in the room and was carrying an entire jug of wine around with her as she socialized and soaked up the positive attention.

She was dressed... well, as she was usually dressed. Scandalously, you might say. Her dress was back to its 'normal' state -- that is, ragged and threadbare but holding onto her curvy frame for dear life. Her leather sandals with the calf-lace seemed to bite into her fair skinned but toned legs, and with every little motion of her hips to weave through the crowd, there were at least a dozen onlookers craning their heads in the hopes that something private would pop out of confinement. Her cheeks housed a faint blush -- the attention was always simultaneously exhilarating and embarrassing. Whether she liked or feared the many eyes on her was irrelevant, though: it was pretty rare that one would find her anywhere without the gauzy dress clinging to her body and demanding attention.

Pausing to take a swig directly from the ornate jug of wine so red it was almost black, she stopped and sighed and looked around. These regulars were all fine and good, but she was hoping to trade stories or get into some trouble with people a little more similar to her. A fellow adventurer or arena combatant would have been just peachy, so she narrowed her gold-grey eyes and looked like a bird of prey for a moment as she scoped out the room. Or, maybe, one would find her.

Christie's eyes focused on a young woman reclining on a barstool in a very casual manner, gesturing in an almost celebratory way.  She wore red robes that looked like the uniform of a mage academy.  Her narrow nose was pierced with a silver ring, a form of adornment usually frowned on by the regulations of such academies.  Her deep brown eyes revealed a great deal of intelligence, but still gave off an air of inexperience.  As the tavern maid brought her a new mug of mead, the girl kissed her playfully on the cheek as she tossed her a tip.  "A drink for you..." she said, handing the server more money.  "A drink for everybody!  I won!  Did you hear what the Empress said to me?" she swaggered, a little tipsy, and riding high on her recent success.

(Thanks for filling in what Syndra said...I'm gonna do something unorthodox, and take this over to a new thread so as to give Christie a choice whether she wants to get involved with what happens...just gonna do some crazy development over there.)