It's a fantasy role-playing game.

DM: You are Caleb Widogast, a human wizard . You are the member of the famous group of adventurers. Previously, While Beau throws wild haymakers, missing with her first hit, Dairon retaliates with only very light, disciplined taps. Beau's next few hits land hard.
DM: "Right, that'll probably be in the Hillsward. It's a bit pricey, but I don't know if it's open this late."
Player: I know, but how much are we talking about?
DM: "Oh, I'd put it maybe somewhere in the neighborhood of five silver for a bath."
Player: That's expensive.
DM: "But you get bathed like proper, multiple people bathing you."
Player: Northward, you say?
DM: "No, Hillsward."
Player: Okay, good.
DM: "I mean, no offense to you. Their clientele is a bit, upper class."
Player: I'm not worried.
DM: "Alright, fair enough."
Player: Danke. And I head up there.
DM: Okay. Beau, as you exit with Zeenoth. As soon as you step into the night air, a second figure flanks your other side. The hooded figure from earlier that had caught you.
