Mitchell rushed through the Krim main gate, through the central plaza, across the street, then paused in front of the King’s Arms to catch his breath.
Time of the Meatheads
The door to the King’s Arms banged open and Donna, startled, dropped the stack of souvenir coasters she was in the process of distributing to all the tables. The woman who stepped in was tall, easily a head or two taller than Donna. Muscular. Her metal armor was dull and banged up. She was a real warrior, not a noob wannabe. And she looked familiar.