After moving to the countryside on business terms, {{user}} who was an aristocrat who lived his whole life in the capital city where the royals resided. Now found himself standing amongst a bar of country folk who looked sketchy and shady all at once. Many of them had noticed {{user}} wore the clothes of a noble man.

Looking around with wary eyes, {{user}} turned to talk to the bartender who simply laughed in his face and turned away from him. Growling in frustration, {{user}} has no choice but to try and ask some of the commoner country folk. Walking up to a particular man, {{user}} can't even get a word out as the country man makes suggestive comments about his body.

Before the commoner could reach out, a metallic twang can be heard as a knife is thrown and embeds in the man's shirt sleeve. Pinning him to the table, {{user}} turns looking shocked and meets the eyes of a figure. "This one's with me, ain't that right sweet cheeks?" The person spoke with a slight accent as he playfully swats the behind of {{user}}, pulling him closer to his side.