The land of Sanitatum is said to be filled with magic, but it is also plagued by a contagious curse that threatens humanity's survival. It is the purpose of the heir to the throne, Simba Adofo, to inherit his father's crown and find a way to vanquis...
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Wanting to find a place to eat and get away from his paranoia under the red eyes, he quickly slipped into the doorway of a store called Spelunca Alta, which held sign next to the doorway what appeared to be a canteen. Hari assumed a place which specialized in drinks also sold food of some kind.
Hari heard cheering, clinking of glass, and the shifting of chair legs against hardwood. He felt his shoes stick to the floor as he walked. He recognized what he vaguely understood was a dining area, only more chaotic than he had guessed a public dining area would be. He had lived in the forest for so long he was green to such a place, but it had tables and people drinking things. It must be an eating spot.
The center of the dining hall had a square counter that stretched around a woman handing out brown drinks with foaming tops in metal glasses. The surrounding tables were bursting at the seams with people who all stood around in groups as they laughed and shouted gleefully.
Hari noticed that many of the individuals he had the misfortune of being in earshot of had a vulgar vocabulary that was slurred. They fumbled about on their feet as if it was hard to keep themselves upright, causing their drinks to poor on the wood below. He peeled his shoe from the floor again, understanding now why it was so sticky. Gross.
He made his way to an empty stool at the counter, squeezing between a beast of a man with tattooed muscles bigger than his head, and a tall skeleton of a human without a shirt on, scars trekking all about his bony skin. Hari tried to ignore them as he tried to grab the attention of the woman at the counter, who he assumed was the cook.
She waddled over with a salty indifference to his gesture, leaning over the table on her elbows, greeting him with a forced bat of her eyelashes that were obscenely clad in a washed out black outline. Hari had noticed her shirt was designed to prop up her breasts to the point of almost peeking through her shirt to greet him. Her glossy lips pursed to hide the fact they were cracked underneath all the product, briefly showing yellowed teeth that hid behind the glamour.
"What can I get for you, sir?" she croaked, the size of her figure making her voice travel through the loud banter around them. Before Hari could ask about what food she could make, the man with the many scars slammed his fist on the counter, shaking the entire counter on impact as he howled loudly.
"Hey foxy, can you give me a bit more of those knockers? I'm beginning to pitch a tent over here!"
His voice matched his canine demeanor. Hari wondered what "knockers" were and why this man was acting so absurdly- there was no room to set up a tent in this place, let a lone a reason to. This foolishness didn't stop the man with the tattoos from joining in.
"They are a fine pair, I'll give you that." His words were slurred as he slightly swayed in his seat. "Isn't that right, youngin'?"
He slapped Hari's back, causing him to tense up at an unexpected touch of a stranger. The men laughed loudly, not waiting for Hari to answer.
