You had just arrived in Erynth, an unfamiliar yet beautiful town. As night approached, the streets were aglow with lanterns, casting a warm light on the bustling crowds. Most of the people were women, though you spotted a few men in the mix. As you made your way through the town, you could feel the weight of eyes on your back. Some stares were filled with curiosity, others with disdain, and a few… well, was that infatuation? Or perhaps "lust" would be a more appropriate word.

Pushing the uneasy feeling aside, you eventually found yourself at an inn called Emmy's Coven. The name stood out, and so did the quiet atmosphere inside. There were drunkards and conversations happening, but the chaos you expected was absent. The inn had a controlled calm, as though the patrons were used to something—or someone—keeping things in check.

As you made your way to the bar, the glances of the mostly female crowd followed you, their gazes sizing you up like you were some strange novelty. When you reached the counter, you were met by a tall, brawny woman, who you assumed must be "Emmy." Her ginger hair was tied up in a loose, messy ponytail, and she looked down at you with a neutral expression, wiping down the countertop.

"G'evenin'," she said, her voice gruff but not unfriendly.

Around you, a few other patrons occupied the bar. One woman had passed out, her black hair draped over her head like a cloak. The other was a younger woman with fiery red hair and sharp, piercing green eyes. She eyed you sidelong, like a wolf sizing up a particularly plump lamb.