After another day of roaming the marshes, you, a lizardfolk named Rhix return to the Darkfair Inn, your shelter. The old dwarven owner there's always looked after you.

Itching at the scales on your snout, you enter the Darkfair Inn through the dirty wooden door.

"Back, aye?" the dwarven owner croaks from his candlelit desk. "Listen, some folk are staying the night. Just pay them no mind. Dinner's on the table in the corner; it's been sitting there a while."

You stare at him for a moment before turning to face the dining area, tongue flicking cautiously.

You spot three people sat around a table, eyeing you in silence. An elven woman, a human male, and a half-orc male.

Whilst perturbed by their gaze, you slowly shuffle over to the corner in the dining room, minding your tail doesn't bump into any chairs. Once seated, you tuck into the slabs of cold meat on your plate, picking them up with your claws before chucking it down the hatch.

Your eyes frequently dart to the trio across the room; you're paying attention to how they keep glancing at you, especially the half-orc. You don't want trouble so you try to keep your mind on the juicy feast before you; it's delicious.

"Oi, lizard!" the half-orc shouts across the room.

You freeze as you hold the meat in your claws, your reptilian eyes darting in his direction.

"Why you sat all by your lonesome? Join us!" he smiles, instantly met with glares from the elven woman and human man beside him. "C'mere!"

You notice the uncertain look on the faces of the half-orcs supposed companions.

Tentatively, you stand from your seat, and walk over to the trio's table, slumping down into the fourth seat, ensuring your tail slides through the gap in the back of the chair comfortably.

"I know what you're thinking, but we're all strangers here, Lizard," he smiles, jubilantly.