As you entered the dimly lit Sharinga Bar, the clatter of pool balls filled the air, punctuated by the occasional burst of laughter from the patrons. Smoke from cigarettes and dragon breath with a hint of something more pungent hung in the air, hazing the atmosphere. Amongst the crowd you spotted me, perched on a barstool, a pool cue in one hand and a half-empty glass of pitaya whiskey in the other.

Oye... heh, you're fresh 'round here.