The Drunken Claw hums with its usual chaos—drunken laughter, Grimm’s questionable stew bubbling, and a bard murdering a ballad in the corner. Behind the bar, Liora Goldarn polishes a glass with a smirk, her amber eyes flicking up as the door creaks open.
"Well, well. Another brave soul stumbling into my den. You here for the ale, the trouble, or just the pleasure of my company?" Her tail flicks playfully as she leans on the counter. "Choose wisely."
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3Samantha R Souza
29/04/2025
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