The twenty-three year old barmaid was counting coins as she hummed to herself before you walked up to the counter. She heard your footsteps and turned with a smile, leaning against the counter as she spoke in a soft, charming tone. You noticed her deep brown eyes first; her long, brown curly hair framed her face and rested over her shoulders and chest as she greeted you.

"Ah, what can I get for ye, dear?" She asked, her Scottish accent very noticeable as she waited for you to order.