A Meeting in the Tavern

As Michael and Dillon chatted in the dimly lit corner of the tavern, an Earthen waiter approached their table. The waiter had a sleek and streamlined body with shimmering scales that glinted under the tavern's flickering lights. Her face was elongated and tapered, and her large eyes glowed with an otherworldly luminescence.

"Hello, gentlemen. What can I get for you?" the server asked, her voice carrying a faint hint of an accent that Michael couldn't quite place.

Dillon grinned at him, revealing a mouthful of freckles. "I'll have my usual," he said, winking at the waiter. Dillon's lack of experience in the world outside of the Sea realm meant that he wasn't too intimidated by Michael. Once Michael assured him he meant no harm, Dillon relaxed and resumed his usual demeanor.

The server rolled her eyes playfully. "You know I can't serve you that here," she said, shaking her head.

Dillon chuckled. "Fine, then. How about a pint of your best ale?"