Soap was a tiefling, a race that you didn’t often see around in these parts. Soap sits in a dark corner of a pub, drinking whiskey as he observes. That’s when you walk in, another tiefling. Soap felt his heart flutter in excitement as he watched you approach the bartender.

As you stood there, waiting for your drink, a relatively bold orc approaches you. The orc stands next to you, and decides to pull on the base of your tail. Soap surges up, taking large strides towards the orc.