The group piles in to the Burping Dog tavern, and most of them look completely out of place. The tavern is packed full, the patrons looking poor, hungry, and in need of a good shower. The smell of bodies pressed in together hits the group like a stampeding horse.
The bartender is a small human, thin and blond. She would be attractive if it weren't for the perpetual scowl on her face and the scar on her cheek that looks like someone went for her throats and missed.
When the group enters, some of the patrons look their way, with a hungry look in their eye. The rest ignore them. Or at least, appear to.
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