The bar exuded a strange, enchanting mix of rustic charm and opulence. Its walls and furniture entirely crafted with dark oak with no polish on them, the smell like a mixture of wood and withered flowers giving it somewhat earthly, welcoming warmth. Yet, despite its humble materials, the place was elevated by its lavish details. Golden chandlers hanging high on the rooftop like stars in night-sky intricately designed and casting a soft, golden glow that danced across the room.
Shelves behind the counter were lined with bottles of every shape and color imaginable, some glowing faintly as if holding liquid light. The air was filled with a heady mix of spices, ale, and the faint scent of burning wood from the crackling fireplace in the corner. Round wooden tables scattered across the room hosted lively groups of patrons, their laughter and chattering blending into a lively symphony. Above the bar, a large wooden sign carved with intricate designs read, Junk Yard Heaven.
The whole place felt like a hidden gem, a cozy refuge for travelers, where the ordinary met the extraordinary harmony.
Roghan bellowed the name word 'Sneel' with a husky groan, his voice echoing through the bar as he stood in front of the counter. The word 'Sneel' seemed like a name to Asher. Roghan shouted it again, and again, each call louder and more impatient than the last.
Suddenly, a loud crash came from behind the counter, followed by the chaotic tumble of wooden boxes. From the pile emerged like a girl-like figure, her orange short hair barely brushing beneath her ears, slightly disheveled from the mess. Her piercing yellow eyes glinted with annoyance as she straightened up, brushing wood chips off her sleeveless green to.
Asher blinked at her, his gaze drifting over her form. Between the unmistakable swell on her chest and her well-proportioned figure, she unmistakably looked a female in his eyes as he applied some of his current knowledge about this world. "Yep definitely a girl", he thought to himself, his observation fueled by her 'melons', as he so eloquently noted.
Sneel planted her hand on her hips arching her back, her eyes narrowing at Roghan. "What's with the yelling, you overgrown ogre? Can't a lady stack boxes in peace?" she snapped, clearly unimpressed with the ruckus.
"You need to help me with this freakin old hag dusty lady. This lady has been riding me since I caught her red-handed spreading nudity in kids's playground." Roghan says with tedious voice, as if he would collapse right now.
"So? What am I supposed to do? Its not like someone will pay me to get this freakin lady off you." Sneel scoffs off the topic just like that. And Asher couldn't continue to live on with his gender being misunderstood because of his beautiful lacy bikini so he clears his throat and softly says, "Excuse me please; I am not a wom-!" Asher gets intervened by the sudden shake given by Roghan to him.
"Sneel can you please give this lady some proper dress to wear?" Roghan throws Asher at Sneel and archs his back with a growl to cure his back pain from carrying Asher to a literal 30 miles journey.
"Fine..." Sneel sighs and drags Asher to the dressing room.
Asher, still being dragged stammered, "I think you might have mistaken for me a woman Miss Sneel. I am a man."
"Then why the heck you are wearing a bikini?" Sneel says, her right eye twitching as she throws Asher on the chair.
"I just happen to..." Asher replies passing an awkward smile to Sneel.
Hearing this Sneel slaps his face, throwing some clothes at him and leaves. Asher stares at the clothes he was given as if it was a weapon. Were these really clothes? They looked more like scraps of fabric. After a moment, he noticed a pattern-everyone in this universe seemed to wear revealing outfits, even with the temperature hovering around five degree Celsius. Men's clothing left half the chest exposed or torso exposed, like Roghan's barely-there shirt or whatever one calls it here, while in women's clothing-like Snell's green, sleeveless and far too thin to be useful except covering t-shirt-well isn't that what clothes are actually supposed to do?
"Maybe the creatures of this universe are used to such low temperature that's why their clothes are quite revealing." He thoughts, as he keeps examining the clothes.
Meanwhile... (ON SNEEL'S AND ROGHAN'S SIDE)
Sneel leaned against the railing of the balcony, her cigarette's smoke curling lazily in the air. The sun blazed high in the sky, casting a harsh light over the balcony attached to the dressing room on the first floor. She exhaled slowly, watching the smoke trail up slowly up before she spoke, her voice tinged with curiosity. "What species d you think that old lady-I mean man, is from?"
Roghan who stood a few steps away, his right arm resting on another with his left hand held the wine glass straight, clearly push aside the frustration still gnawing at him. "I don't know for sure," he muttered, his brows knitting together as he recalled Asher's annoying face. "But with those piercing yellow eyes, I'd say he's probably part of draconian."
Sneel scoffed, her lips curling into a disbelieving sneer. "No way. Draconians aren't like that-and they're certainly not that weak and I know that." She spat, her voice simmering with furry as if it a personal insult being him referred as a draconian.
Roghan raised an eyebrow, his grin widening as he took another sip from his glass of hot wine. "Why are you getting so fired up? After-all, you're not a full draconian, you're only half. No need to take it personally," he teased, a slight hint of grin on his face as he took a sip from his wine.
Sneel's eyes narrowed dangerously as she shot him a venomous glare. "Shut the heck up, Roghan! I can still burn you to death," she growled, her voice thick with an intensity that matched the fire in her gaze.
He leans back slightly, his grin widening even more. "Yep, you could... but only at the speed of a snail, considering that's what you are." He raised his glass to her in a mock salute, completely unfazed.
Sneel growled lowly in her throat, but Roghan could tell her anger was more out of habit than true menace. Their banter was a well-worn dance-one that both of them knew all too well.
"Uhh.. forget it now." He sighs dramatically taking a sip from his hot wine as he takes a glance on Sneel with his one eye. "Here, look at this newspaper." Roghan adds giving Sneel a newspaper to her.
Sneel snatches the newspaper with fiery energy and starts to read it with boredom in her voice, "Prince sher fire draconian has ran away from his palace into the woods. We, the empire of Dracon will grant 50 million gold coins, 5 ton wheat and rice, 5 golden ornaments and a mansion in the capital to the person whoever brings the prince back to his empire."