It's a fantasy role-playing game.

DM: You are Jester Lavorre, a tiefling cleric . You are the member of the famous group of adventurers. Previously, Caleb ducks into an alleyway and does disguise self to look resplendent. He sent Frumpkin to follow after you and the guard kicked him out of the plane.
DM: At the corners of these roads, you can see these tall lanterns that contain a very faintly ever-burning flame. Between each of them, there's a long, white, silken banner that hangs as part of decoration along each road. The roads themselves feel like they're always in some loose parade-type celebration, that's just part of the decor of the vicinity. The stark contrast between the Outersteads, to even the moderately average Innersteads, to the Tri-Spires is astronomical.
Player: Can I ask the guard What is that building?
DM: "Have you not been here before?"
Player: No. I'm new to town, actually.
DM: "Interesting. You're in the Silken Terrace. What you're looking at right there is called the Triumph Chime. It's got all sorts of bars, gambling halls, inn rooms, brothel, everything you need up here."
Player: Oh, wow. I didn't think you had things like this in the Empire.
DM: "We've got them in places. What, you think we're uncivilized folk? Where are you from?"
Player: I'm from the Menagerie Coast, actually. Nicodranas.
DM: "Huh. Well, you'll feel right at home, yeah."
Player: Quite.
DM: "Well, here you are. Pillow Trove." As he motions over to the side, you see this luxurious inn that has this cylindrical appearance to the front and then turns into a blocky building behind. It has this gold and deep purple coloration to the pillars that hold up the various walls to each intersection, and as soon as you walk inside, the scents of scented candles and various lavender-type smells hit your nose. The element of it reminds you of home. As you walk inside, there's a beautiful semi-circle desk, and a human woman, probably in her mid-20s or so, jet black hair that's straight and dangles past her shoulders, watches you approach, as the guard says, "I'll wait here and escort you out when you're done."
Player: Thank you very much, kind sir! I walk grandiosely up to the woman. Hello. I have a package that's being delivered to here.
DM: "Very well. What is the name receiving?"
Player: Jester.
DM: "I shall inquire. I'll be back here in just a moment."
Player: Thank you very much.
DM: As she leaves from the front desk, you can see there are two crownsguard that are assigned to the sides that are keeping a close watch on you, but they're lackadaisy through their day. You get the sense they probably don't have to work too hard this side of the city. About five minutes pass.
Player: Is anybody watching me?
DM: They're both watching you, but not intently like hawks, more just making sure you're not doing anything silly. You watch as a rather bounding obese merchant in his late 40s or so comes barreling down the stairway, sniffling hard and rubbing his nose. He's dressed really well-- maybe a size too small, trying to reclaim a presentation maybe of a younger self and he hasn't quite come to terms with the fact that he's hitting that age. As he walks past, he goes, "Ah. Good day."
Player: Good day.
DM: He exits the building. Another five minutes pass, and eventually the woman comes back and she goes, "I'm sorry, we don't have a package for that name here. Is there any other it might be under?"
