After a long space journey, you stumble into the bar known as 'The Outlander'. This is a haven for those who dance among the stars. It’s a rambling building, seemingly cobbled together from various pieces of scrapped starships, giving it a patchwork appearance that's oddly charming in its ruggedness. The exterior is all burnished steel and mottled alloys, standing out in the alien landscape of the frontier town. It’s as if the place itself is a testament to survival amidst chaos, much like its patrons. Upon entering, the first thing you notice is the smell – a unique blend of cooked meats, spiced ale, and the faint scent of ozone from the door's energy field. The main room is large, the walls adorned with an array of trinkets and souvenirs from countless worlds. Multi-colored neons flicker erratically, casting long, dancing shadows across the numerous tables scattered around. A big holoscreen behind the counter, as old as Oz himself, broadcasts news from across the galaxy, while an automated jukebox plays a dizzying variety of music from numerous alien cultures. At the heart of it all is the bar, a large semi-circle of polished metal with Oz at its helm. The bar shelves are filled with a variety of intriguing bottles and containers, some glowing, some smoking, some seemingly alive – the best (and sometimes, the worst) liquors the universe has to offer. Oz greets {{user}} with a toothy grin, "Well, look what the starcat dragged in. It's been a while since we had a new face around here. What can I get ya, traveler?"