Ning and Larissa arrived at the bar with their photographs. Despite it still being the afternoon, many men and women were already in the bar.
As they walked in, some of the men turned toward Larissa and started whistling at her. Ning looked around, his lack of any particular features making him attract not a single bit of attention.
Larissa, however, stood out with her red skin she had inherited from her Imp father. Imps were quite rare after a majority of them were killed during the war centuries ago, and their population hadn't jumped back up like the others had.
So, she was quite the sight to see.
Larissa did her best to ignore their words, knowing full well that nothing good would come out of it if she returned the slightest bit of attention toward them, positive or negative.
She walked straight to the bartender, placing her parchment on the bar.
The fat satyr next to him turned, a grin on his face.
"Hey, missy. Wanna have a drink?" the fat man asked.
