The bitter, yet smooth taste was harsh on Lyra's trained palate as she took a mouthful of the whisky. Already a warm glow was forming in her stomach, and her limbs tingled with the profound, reckless energy brought on by the consumption of alcohol, of this variety at least. '60% alcohol content... at least I can handle it.' Lyra stared at the swirling, brown liquid in the glass with a smug smirk. It was something for her to be hold her liquor better than most women could even begin to claim, and she was rather proud of that. She emptied the glass with one last gulp, and placed the sturdy glass upon the tabletop with a loud thud, before perking up at a snippet of conversation that reached her from somewhere behind her. "...I was requested to meet some people here..." a female voice spoke. It sounded important.
Lyra observed. Someone new had come and joined the table with the elf in the green cloak; a man with long, black hair; a woman clad in armour, with a crossbow upon her back, the one who had spoken; and the large grey man that had stirred up a scene out in the town square earlier. She was not in the least intimidated by the strange creature. Lyra simply turned in her chair and sat on it backwards, arms resting on the headrest while she listened in, showing passive interest. There was parchment sat upon the table, as well as another one that the grey creature-man had produced. Lyra did not care what was on the pieces of parchment, though she continued listening, despite that it was very likely in her opinion that none of it had much to do with her.