<strong>GM Note</strong><br/><br/><div class="floatleft">(https://i.pinimg.com/736x/cc/46/10/cc46102f394ce3e287f5334b4f18f27b.jpg)</div>Tamaa, you enter into a raucous tap room.  In one corner, a group of men suddenly look up from their card game to stare at you as you proceed from the entrance and towards the bar.  At a table, an old sailor has a wench on his lap, and the two are laughing, the wench's fat breasts jiggling within the sailor's grip.  Soldiers hailing from everywhere sit at the bar, drinking a variety of spirits.  A bard is in the corner strumming away at his mandolin.<br/><br/>Behind the counter, there is a stout human male with a peg leg.  He is old, bald, with gray hair around the ears.  He looks at you up and down, Tamaa, and squares up with you before pulling out a wineskin from beneath the counter.  He places it on the counter in front of the female archer.<br/><br/>"It's free," the man said.  "One of these bastards will end up payin' fer it, that's for sure.  Just don't let em' hand you drinks, the right proper idiots like to have their way with lasses like ye."  He then turned to work, but continued to speak to Tamaa.  "No bathhouse, but the beach is free an' the 'bathing facilities' are typically in use fer' everythin' but bathin'.  No self-respectin' person ought to go there."<br/><br/>The barkeep turned to look at another man.  This man was older, with a crooked nose and a snarling sort of grin.  The barkeep turned away.<br/><br/>"Ah, a new arrival, eh?" the man with the sinister face uttered.  "That is good."