Exploit every opportunity...

Despite fear of the consequences and moral considerations, you decide to search this incoherently muttering alcoholic wallowing in the dirt.

Step...

Another cautious step forward...

You bend over the prostrate body of the drunkard, who is muttering some nonsense...

The stench becomes almost unbearable...

The smell of bad ****...

The stench of rotten teeth, the stench of sweat and... the stench of urine!

You look around fearfully: the light from the inn windows, the hubbub of patrons, someone bellowing an obscene song...

It seems no one is leaving the building now, and no one is noticing what you're doing.

Your slender fingers search the pockets of this guy's dirty, holey pants...

Something wet and sticky!

"Fuck! He pissed himself so hard that the fabric of his pants is almost completely wet!" - you think with disgust, feeling your hand stained with this... "fragrant" liquid.

You continue your "search"...

Finally, you manage to find some small metal object that was previously hidden deep in one of your pockets.

You carefully take it out and try to examine it in the light coming from the inn's windows.

It looks like... a small, worn knuckle duster, made of some cheap metal (copper? bronze?).

You put the knuckle duster in your bag.

"Well... Now at least I have some kind of weapon..." - you think, sadly recalling the recent past when you lost your dagger.

Sighing and trying to hold your breath, you continue your "search". Ten seconds later, when you've almost given up hope of finding anything valuable on this stinker, you slowly manage to find a small, dirt-spattered vial tucked into his shirt.

You examine the vial: the opening is sealed with a wooden stopper (but clearly not very securely - it looks like someone has opened it before); inside the vial is some sort of murky gray liquid.

You quickly place the vial you found in your bag, wipe your dirty hand on the clothes of the man you robbed, and then you walk away from the body of this non compos alcoholic.

So, you enter the inn "Broken Mug"...

The spacious, illuminated hall is filled with numerous tables, chairs, benches, and stools...

Countless people are busy eating, drinking, gambling, and socializing...

Amidst this hubbub, almost no one notices your presence...

At least at first...

You carefully move forward, weaving between tables and inn guests.

Twice, you have to dexterously avoid the consequences of the overly "close" interactions of the local regulars: at several tables, friendly conversation and card games quickly "turned" into a fight (you were nearly hit by a thrown stool, and a tall guy almost punched you in the face with an overly wide swing of his arm).

You quickly walk toward the bar, observing the chaos...

Right before your eyes, three dangerous-looking scumbags, screaming about cheating at a card game, started causing some kind of chaos: they threw a bearded man backwards onto the table (all the food and drinks flew everywhere…) and began beating him mercilessly.

Blood spattered even slightly stained the hem of your dark green women's cloth dress…

As you walked forward, several drunks managed to pinch your buttocks…

"Hey! You! Halfelven slut! Get under the table and start sucking dicks!" – amid the noisy hubbub of dozens of inn guests, these obscene shouts directed at you were almost lost.

You approached the bar counter in fear, hoping that the bastards who noticed you were too drunk to focus on you and take action. Behind the long oak bar, you see a plump, elderly human woman dressed in a greasy gray cloth dress. Her face, with its plump cheeks, large round nose, and a couple of warts on her fat chin, clearly expresses her dislike for you.

Next to her stands a tall, muscular, bald human man, his face and arms covered in scars, and a small wooden club at his belt. This guy resembles one of the local bouncers (indeed, you see that he often has to retreat to one of the tables and "calm down" particularly rowdy inn guests).

The elderly woman's cloudy gray eyes look you up and down with an expression of disdain.

"Could you give me a place to stay, just for one night?" - you ask timidly.

"You look like you have no money at all..." - she lisps.

"It's true, I don't have any coins... But perhaps, as the owner of this inn, you could show me some leniency?" - you say in a trembling voice.

The woman replies phlegmatically, looking at you skeptically: "First of all: I'm not the owner of the Broken Mug Inn. I'm merely the manager of this place... This inn owned by a noble and wealthy man living in the city of Onteria. Secondly: you're a fucking halfelven perv-boy! People like you are despised here! You're fucking bastards, carrying filthy elven blood. The only thing hated more in this area than stinking halfelven mongrels is the elves..."

You felt a surge of anxiety: this woman had unmistakably identified you as a boy, not a girl! She was probably too experienced, and your disguise hadn't fooled her. You tried not to show that you were taken aback by her attentiveness. In your mind, you tried to formulate a plan for the future: you should improve your disguise so you looked more like a girl.

"But why? Why do they hate me?" - you can't resist asking a question, the answer to which seems obvious to everyone here, but not to you.

"It seems you're much dumber than I thought... The War of Bloody Waves... More than twenty years ago, the elven cruds nearly succeeded in capturing this fertile province and the city of Onteria itself. Months passed before the royal forces were able to launch an offensive and completely liberate the territory... It was a bloody massacre... Almost every local inhabitant had a relative either killed in those events or wounded or maimed..." - woman answers you reluctantly.

You feel a mixture of fear and shame - it seems your lack of education has led you to the region most hostile to half-elves.

And now you will have to face the consequences...

"You're lucky most of the guests are too busy right now... Drinking, gambling, fighting... But everything could change if you attract too much attention to yourself..." - the woman sneers mockingly.

"But what should I do?!" - you say in panic.

"There's dirty work... You'll do whatever I tell you: wash dishes, clean the toilet, clear the tables of scraps... In exchange, I'll let you sleep in our barn - one of the annexes to the main inn building. That's where the pigs sleep. If you agree, you'll start work right now and work for at least four hours before I let you go to sleep..." - the woman lisps.

You consider this "generous" offer...

The frightened gaze of your beautiful emerald-green eyes darts between the tables.

You notice that most of the inn guests are humans. However, in the far right corner of this spacious hall, there's a table at which a discreet group of dwarves sits. They look rather gloomy - but what if you have a chance to ask them for help and get what you want?

Or should you do what that fat, unpleasant human woman said?