It's a fantasy role-playing game.

DM: You are Fjord, a half-orc warlock . You are the member of the famous group of adventurers. Previously, Matthew will be at Otafest in Calgary, up in Canada, May 18th to the 20th, and A-Kon in Texas June 7th through 10th.
DM: It appears to be. The doors are closed, but it is warm on the inside, and upon checking the door, it is not locked.
Player: Nice. We go in.
DM: You step inside the interior and there is one other patron, who is currently in the process of looking through one of the glass cases in the far end of the room. You can see it's a rather portly looking gentleman, probably middle-aged or so. His hair is curled and unkempt, but pulled close to his scalp. His cheeks are ruddy, like the cold weather has caused him to get a bit flush, and he's in the process of glancing over as soon as you enter. He looks sidelong to your troupe as you enter and tries to mind his own business. There across the room, you can see there are two Pumat Sols currently, one of them smiling and looking out your direction, the other one that is keeping an eye on the gentleman in the corner. The one that watches you enter gives a big grin, "Why hello there!"
Player: Good to see you again! Boy, it is sure coming down outside, wish there was a way to dry off real fast.
DM: "Well, if that's what you're asking, I would be happy to help you."
Player: I am!
DM: He walks on over and starts breathing heavily on you.
Player: (quietly) Fuck. (clears throat) What does it smell like?
DM: His breath is warm. There are elements of an herbal scent that immediately is overtaken with a--
Player: Sour cream and onion chips.
DM: Yeah, it's not entirely unpleasant, but not pleasant either. It's a warm cow-breath smell.
