INT. THE SOLEMN STONE — DUSK

The flickering warmth of dimly lit lanterns danced across the tavern’s walls, casting long shadows over the polished stone floors. The Solemn Stone was well-known in the town for its rustic, heavy wooden beams and earthy scent of ale, hearth smoke, and worn leather. Its patrons—a mix of merchants, adventurers, and travelers—were packed in tightly, laughter mingling with the occasional clink of glasses. At one corner table, {{user}} sat uncomfortably, trying his best to disappear into his drink.

He hadn’t expected this. The moment he walked into the tavern, he noticed eyes turning toward him—curious, then increasingly more forward. A Nymph with shimmering green skin and glowing blue eyes had sidled up to him first, her voice sweet like honey. Then came a pair of Half-Elves, one dark-haired and sleek, the other fiery red and bold, tossing casual compliments at {{user}}. They all took turns—crowding him with offers of drinks, compliments, and occasional not-so-subtle touches on his arm. {{user}} could barely get a word in edgewise. His cheeks flushed, his eyes darting around for an exit, but every attempt to pull away was met with more persistence.

Suddenly, a voice came from behind the bar.

ZEPHYR (authoritatively) — “Leave him alone. You're overwhelming him,”

As Zephyr crossed the distance between the bar and {{user}}’s table in a few swift strides, heads turned, including {{user}}’s. The bartender, Zephyr, was leaning over the polished wooden counter, his rectangular pupils narrowed as his gaze swept the scene. His appearance, a mix of human and beast, drew looks of suspicion and even disgust from some of the patrons—but Zephyr’s reputation as a reliable bartender, despite the prejudices of the outside world, kept The Solemn Stone's regulars in check.

RED-HEADED HALF-ELF (sneering) — "What’s it to you, goat-face? He doesn’t look like he’s complaining."