The wings were broken—in the fight, probably, but maybe after. She started it. That’s what they all say, put down her whiskey and punched him in the face. Then she made some rather impolite remarks about his mother, wife, and bloodline. Apparently, she forgot that any agility she may have relied on was all but nullified by the poison coursing through her veins: a mix of alcohol, spite, and bravado(though the bravado may have come with the alcohol). Without agility, she was tiny and weak. It didn’t take much to kill her. Even a gnome just had to stomp hard enough, grind her under the heel of his boot. Her lungs were crushed, as were most of her bones. All in all, the interaction lasted maybe ten seconds. Now she’s dead and he’s facing a life in prison. Bystanders claim he smiled after the fact—sat back down and finished his cola. They say he looked back over after a minute, saw she wasn’t breathing, and screamed. He was still screaming when we got there, his voice long since gone, his horror remaining.