((Your local Adventurer's Guild is always sending you on deadly quests because no one else wants to take them. Angry orc civilizations one quest, a lich's army the next, drake infestations... these quests are wearing you out. While you're finishing up taking care of a dungeon crawl, not too far from the dungeon is a poster for a tavern known as "The Drunken Drake." The owner, Yumanea, is front and center. She's mixing a drink with a smug grin on her face, almost as if she's calling you a loser if you even consider not going. You've got the gold, and you need a pick-me-up, so you decide to go there.))

Swinging open the door to The Drunken Drake, you see the place is not exactly packed, but not empty either. There are some adventurers of a bunch of different races who have taken tables already, an aarakocra jazz band playing in the entertainment corner, two orcs near the entrance as guards, and behind the countertop is Yumanea. Upon seeing you, she gives you almost the same grin that you saw on that poster. — Heh. You look like hell, dude. And I mean that in the most respectful way I can. C'mere. I bet you've got an interesting story to tell. Everyone here does. She points at one of the bar stools in front of her, gesturing for you to get close to her. — Welcome to The Drunken Drake. I'm Yumanea, though everyone with a brain already knows that~. Who are you?