A young woman donning heavy clothing with a scarf covering most of her head, and an evidently expensive black cloak that hides most of her figure, is sitting at the counter in a poorly-lit tavern.

「Something sweet and mild, please,」 she softly requests of the bartender with a weary countenance demanding a sweet reprieve.

Her face appears somewhat haggard, but despite this tired look, she can feel the glares from people in the tavern — mostly lecherous, rough men with scars or hooded faces, and envious women. Ignoring them all, she droops her head and slackens her shoulders, exhaling heavily.

The bartender, a towering figure with broad shoulders, arms bulging with muscles, and a scar across his face approaches with a smile, flashing a set of impeccable, snow-white teeth.

「Here's your drink, can I get you anything else?」 he asks in a kind tone belying his intimidating appearance, making the young woman raise her slender eyebrows.

She takes her drink with an air of disinterest, replying, 「This will suffice.」

Undeterred, the bartender leans closer, closer than necessary with smiling eyes and a charming grin on his face, 「Allow me to lend an ear, what troubles you?」

The woman recoils, almost spilling her drink, 「Thank you for the proposition, kind sir, but I am fine.」

The bartender lowers his head and slouches, walking away in defeat.

With another long sigh, the woman takes a sip from her jug. Her eyes immediately light up at the sweet taste, and she continues chugging it down hurriedly. Once the last drop is gone, she licks her lips in satisfaction and lets out a long, relaxed exhale. In the corner of her vision, she notices one of the lecherous thugs standing and walking towards her, leaving his rowdy friends hollering and urging him on.

「Hello there, little missy, are ya new around these parts? Can't say I've seen a face as fair as yours in a run-down joint like this,」 he says, sauntering over and sliding into the seat beside her without reservation. The woman ignores him, staying silent, her head turned away in a show of indifference.

「Oh come on, missy. Spare me at least a few glances, won't ya?」 the man insists, his hand already waving to the bartender, 「Barky, give us two more of those sweetened Hebra juices!」

Barky, the bartender, gives the thug a warning look, as if to tell him to give up, but it is for naught.

「Don't worry missy, this one is on me. With the way ya slurped up that jug earlier, it would be criminal to not let ya enjoy more of em',」 he says smilingly.

Upon hearing this, the woman's shoulders tense, face still turned the other way, but her cheeks betray her growing embarrassment.

「Iyaaa...」 the goon continues, 「 Ya should have seen yaself. Your tongue was sliding all over the rim of that jug,」

Unable to take the humiliation any longer, the woman whirls around to give him an earful, but the sight that she meets makes her instantly regret doing so. The man has a tall face, short, fuzzy brown hair, light green skin, and small visible tusks poking upward. That's all fine and dandy, as some would consider it to be the rugged and thug-looking kind of handsome — however, that mystique is broken by the way he is obscenely circling his tongue around, taunting her, 「And the way ya licked yer lips all happy like! Missy, ya trynna kill someone?」

Eye twitching and cheeks growing rosier, the woman slams her hands down on the counter with a loud clang, 「By the Goddess! W-what do you want?!」 she hisses, her voice carrying over the noise of the tavern. Everyone's attention had been on them from the beginning, so the loud noise doesn't surprise anyone, but quiet snickers and laughter come in response. The woman is too focused on this green-skinned thug and his insufferable behavior to care.

「Hey hey, relax, I'm just saying ya were bein' really adorable back then,」 the green-skinned man says with both hands raised in a faux-defensive manner. 「I'm happy yer finally looking my way. I'm Patrak, what's yung missy called?」

The smile on his face emphasizes his square jawline and scar-less face. The woman wonders how he could have such obnoxious manners. If he would just shut that filthy mouth of his tight, he might've been a fine man.

She closes her eyes, hoping to find solace from the goon's sight. She rubs and kneads her brow, trying to quell the rising frustration. Her eyes open again and she stares him down begrudgingly,「My name is Ro⸺Melan... Romelan, but the people just call me Melan,」 she answers in annoyance.

「The people?」 Patrak's confusion is evident in his tone as he scans her face thoughtfully for a moment before continuing, 「Missy, ya speak like someone from the north! Ya sure someone of your caliber should be down in these unruly lands?」

Melan raises an eyebrow, unsure of whether she should engage with this ruffian. Just as she's about to turn away again, the burly bartender, Barky, interrupts them, presenting two jugs.

「Here are two Hebra juices, 」 he says while flashing his flawless teeth at her before adding, 「Extra sweetened,」 his eyebrows twitching repeatedly.

Melan doesn't spare him a glance, her gaze having already locked onto the jugs filled to the brim with the delicious brew. She also refuses to give Patrak's leering gaze the time of the day. He shouldn't think he can win her over with this.

Seeing as he's being ignored, the bartender sighs and leaves, but not before shooting Patrak a venomous and envious look, only to silently grit his teeth when the green-skinned man glances smugly back at him.

Unprompted, Patrak slides over one of the jugs in front of Melan and mutters, 「Beautiful green eyes, ya can't possibly be an elf, even with the looks to match,」 he urges her on to reveal herself.

The woman's emerald eyes stay affixed to the jug. Obviously, in an internal turmoil until she tentatively grabs it.

「Is this how you flirt in Wilderness?」 she asks, having decided that indulging his curiosity might not be the worst thing. He might have paid his way in, but that doesn't mean she'll be easy. Thus far, she has just been a little careless, and It's not like she needs a rowdy scoundrel to bring any more attention to her by getting argumentative.

「Besides, who and where I came from is none of your business,」 she snarkily adds and grabs the jug firmly, taking her first sip.

The sweet taste immediately spreads and surrounds her tongue, followed by a prickly sensation. Despite the incredible sweetness, the drink counterbalances it with undertones of an exotic but incredibly delicious fruity flavor, which must be the so-called 'Hebra'. A relaxing smile spreads across her face as she's savoring the drink.

Patrak lets out a laugh, one too loud for Melan's liking, causing her to shoot him a sideways glare, and he responds, 「That's a mile's 'way from how ya did it earlier. Maybe, missy is really of noble descent, way too refined for 'round here!」

Her glare turns icy, and she sets the jug down with a thud.

「What about yourself? You don't look entirely like an orc either. If I didn't know otherwise, I'd peg you for one of those outlaws who are trying to compensate for their cowardice with big talk. Just what are you?」 she spits out with more poison than she intended.

Patrak flinches as if her annoyance has finally reached his mind. He assumes a serious expression that is meant to intimidate her. Melan, thinking that she might have hit a nerve, naturally wraps her arms around her drink lest he wants the rest of it back. Raising an eyebrow, she observes him, ready for his next move, but just as suddenly, he grins, showcasing his sharp tusks, as if the previous front was a lie.

「Iyaa, how observant of ya! Half-human, half-orc. One of 'em orc rape stories ya hear all the time,」 he reveals nonchalantly as if reciting today's weather.

「That's... unfortunate,」 Melan lets out cautiously, unsure whether she should feel sympathy for him. She slides her drink a little closer to herself and takes another sip. Patrak's easy demeanor is unsettling, and she can't help but feel like there's more to him than meets the eye.

「Nah, it's not like ya think. I know ya mighta heard stories, but I wasn't like that. I was able to make a name for myself 'ere because... most people in Wilderness come from rough places, ya know,」 he says, lazily scratching the unkempt stubble on his rough cheek to probably try and appear more sincere, 「Life's gotta find its own ways to work, ain't that right?」 he adds before slapping his thigh and chuckling.

Melan furrows her brows, 「You mean, you made a name for yourself as some hired thug instead of following your father's footsteps like all other orc halfsies do?」 she asks with an edge before taking another sip and wondering where the venomous intent is coming from. It must be the tiredness and frustration from not having completed what she originally set out to at this godforsaken place. Taking another sip, fortunately, soothes her thoughts.

「They call it r'spectable work if ya do it for the Adventure Guild,」 Patrak replies, not minding her tone and looking into the distance, 「besides, I nevah killed 'nyone who wasn't asking fer it.」

「That makes me feel so much safer,」 Melan sings with a sardonic smile, which Patrak ignores with a self-assured grin.

「What about ya then, Melan? A... missy of 'yer kind, ya don't have many options here either, no? Wanna know what I think?」 he leans in closer, causing Melan to recoil slightly in surprise, 「I think ya 'ere for a specific purpose, and it might just be a pretty fucking secret one, seeing as ya don't have any guards with ya!」 he exclaims with a sudden glint in his eye.

Melan immediately shifts her eyes away, cheeks blushing slightly as if she just got caught on an embarrassing admission. Was she that obvious?

She takes a few more sips from the soothing drink.

「S-so what?」 a momentary stutter escapes Melan's mouth,「A lone woman doesn't mean anything on its own.」 With the blush on her face, she realizes that her previous facade is faltering. It's the juice getting to her. It must be.

「Nah missy, but I figure ya need some protection if ya not insane. See those guys over there?」 pointing in the direction he came from leads her gaze to a group of ruffians in varying sizes whistling and hollering at the attention. 「Got plenty of experience. How about ya hire us?」

The emerald eyes of the hooded woman narrow as she tries taking one more sip only to find the jug already empty. They both silently eye the other jug, still untouched, filled to the brim, glimmering like a pool of gold under the dull, orange tavern light.

Patrak smirks — the glint in his eye makes his thoughts not particularly hard to figure out for Melan. He slowly slides the jug over, 「Well?」

Melan feels a surge of anger rising within her. This ruffian thinks he can 'pay' for her company once more? Fool. She wants to scoff at him, but relentlessly revealing her nature is what got her into this situation in the first place. The danger of this drink is that once you've had your first pint, you never feel as if you've had enough, and now this green-skinned thug is figuratively dangling it in front of her like a carrot.

She slams the bar counter lightly, forcing herself out of her daze, and rises, 「I appreciate your offer, however, there is somewhere I must go. Good day to you, sir, If you will excuse me,」 she says curtly before turning towards the exit. She has more important matters to attend to than the attention of a rude lout.

「Ah, leaving so early, missy? Ya ain't gonna find anyone 'ere with a blade more dangerous than mine! Come on!」 the ruffian's voice echoes after her but she pays him no mind.

§

Melan steps out of the tavern and into the bustling street, filled with people of various races going on about their day. A cacophony of sounds and smells assaults her senses. The clatter of horse-drawn caravans on the dirty cobblestone, the raucous conversations and shouts of passersby, and the stench of horse manure and unwashed bodies, dried blood and charred flesh — either from cooking or battle — fill the air. She pinches her nose shut, wondering how anyone can stand to live in this filth. Do they not see the grime and pollution that surrounds them?

Letting out a weary sigh, she scans her surroundings, searching for the right path. It's her fourth day in this shanty little town, and she's just about had enough. Striding ahead, she keeps her head held high, observing the passing people with a keen eye. The street has a few shops, with owners shouting hoarsely about how cheap their goods are in hope of attracting customers. Only a handful of buildings can be seen around the area, the biggest and most grand of which is the imposing Adventurer Guild. Melan sets her sights on the entrance, praying that she'll find what she seeks.

As she approaches, a crude sign above the main door that reads [Adventurers' Guild] welcomes her. A gathering of heavily armored adventurers, bolstering and bickering about stands clustered around the entrance, some with splatters of blood still on their armor looking as if they just came back from a mighty demon beast conquest. A few paces away, she spots a small group of people huddled around a trembling girl. Melan almost ignores them, but upon closer inspection, she notices how two long and pointy ears, poking out of her head, are drawing attention by fluttering about. Intrigued, she approaches the group, studying the girl with a keen interest. She is skinny and timid-looking, standing a full head shorter than Melan, even though she is obviously an elf. Her hair is a cream color that borders white, a shade that sets her apart from the usual elvish grey or blonde hair of her folk. It cascades down her back in a messy tangle, reaching all the way down to her butt where, if you look further down, you'll meet her shaking legs.