You approach the bar counter, its wood stained deep mahogany, though now covered in a layer of grime and dust.
Rows of empty bottles sit like silent sentinels on the shelves behind, their labels faded and peeling, their contents long since evaporated. The old cash register, with its worn-out keys, sits dormant, waiting for the next customer.
The raven hops onto the counter, inspecting an old bottle. "We'll need to stock up on drinks, both mortal and... otherwise," it muses.
You hesitate for a moment before pushing the restroom door open.
A chilling gust of wind greets you, accompanied by an oppressive eldritch darkness that seems to seep into every corner of the room.
The cracked tiles on the floor, the rusted fixtures, and the ancient, ornate mirrors only serve to add to the eerie ambiance.
The raven shivers, "Well, this will certainly be a challenge to clean. But nothing's impossible, right?"