In a world gone to pieces, the Bartender forged a place of her own. She used to be a mercenary, but that lost her an arm and a young girl’s dreams. Now she runs a water bar where parched travelers can come in out of the heat to quench their thirst. Tough and no-nonsense, the Bartender could write the guidebook on dealing with some of the scum that washes in out of the desert. She’ll take their trade goods in barter, but her rules are hard and fast: leave your weapons at the door and cause no trouble. Anyone who breaks those rules is apt to find out that her prosthesis definitely favors function over form.