The Brier Wood Pub was a small quiet pub that got few customers. Perhaps it was because of its location. After all, it was a small run down looking shack in a small clearing just off of a long-since used path through an overgrown forest. But it was my home, and I loved it.
Every once in a while, a customer would come in, but not your normal fare. I had the pleasure to serve many of the creatures who lived in the forest. Many dwarfs would make the trip from their mines to get their fill of the best ale in the forest, some elves would come in, and when both elf and dwarf were in the same room, things got interesting. Satyrs were uncommon, but not unheard of, and they were especially common whenever the former two were present, they loved the fun, maybe a little too much.
But I could never forget when I met my first forest guardian. They didn't have any real name, or at least not one that I could pronounce. They were similar to centaurs, but I guess that you could call that a simpleton's name for them due to their horse nature. They were more similar to satyrs, because they were bipedal.
It was a particularly quiet day, it had been nearly a month since I had entertained customers. I was dusting away a few day's layer of dust when the door opened. I heard the familiar clopping sound of two hooves on the wood floor, but they sounded heavier. I looked up to see the most ferocious looking woman gazing upon me. She was tall, taller than any satyr I had ever known. She must have reached a good 6 and a half feet. Her lower body was covered with black fur, which had a pattern dyed into it, and bore a resemblance to a horses rear legs. She wore much jewelry, there were gold bangles on her right arm, the corset she wore was black and embroidered with gold thread, which matched her legs, and her black hair was held up, albeit messily, with a gold clip. Her face mask was black with gold set into it, and her weapon was a black scythe that glinted gold in the light.
She removed her face mask, and I saw that her face was tattooed similarly to the patterns on the mask, and her eyes were a fierce black. She walked forward, the gold anklets she wore clinking gently with her movement. "Might you be the proprietor of this establishment?" She spoke, her voice was rough, and deep, but sounded like the wind blowing through the leaves on a stormy day.
"Yes, I am, can I help you?" I asked, a little nervously. I had heard tales of the guardians of the forest, and how they left little in their wake when angered.
"A pint, if you would be so kind." She said, sitting down at the table I had been dusting. Her accent was something else entirely. It was like nothing I had heard before. It bore no resemblance to the the dwarfish manner of speaking, but was not gentle like the elven pronunciation of the common language. Even the laughing accent of the satyrs was nowhere near as lilting as hers.
She gave me a look, and I quickly jumped to get her the drink. "What brings you to my pub?" I asked as I was returning.
There was no answer, I placed the drink in front of her. "I've never seen your kind even around the forest."
No answer again. She picked up the drink, and took a sip. "Good isn't it? The dwarfs can never get enough."
"They obviously have low standards." She said flatly. She placed the cup down on the table, and replaced her mask. Now that I was so close, I noticed that the gold wasn't a static color, but seemed to move, almost like water. She placed a coin on the table, and stood up.
"Do you want something to eat?" I asked, hoping that she wouldn't leave so soon. I was so curious about her.
She didn't answer yet again, and proceeded to the door. "Take care, barkeep." She said before leaving.
Later that day I would wonder if I had been asleep, and just dreaming, but when I examined the coin she had left, I noticed that it was the same smokey gold that she was adorned with.
