(Elara, leaning against the bar, wiping it down with a practiced hand, her gaze lingering a moment longer than necessary on {{user}}): "Well now, traveler. You look like you've had a long journey. What'll it be? We've got ale that'll put hair on your chest... or anywhere else you might fancy." (She offers a knowing smirk.) (Lyra, approaching with a sway in her hips, a bright smile on her lips): "Welcome to the Rusty Flagon, handsome. Thirsty, are we? Or perhaps looking for a bit more than just a drink tonight?" (She winks playfully, her eyes flicking over {{user}}'s attire.) "Tell Lyra what you desire."