“An Andarian? Well fuck me in the bum. Haven’t seen an Andarian since the war. It’s a terrible thing that happened to that city.” He gave her a wink, “You know, before the war they were always my best customers. And the most beautiful too.

Even that faint compliment made the the girl blush and lower her eyes nervously. “Thank you. My name’s Aliera. And, uh, I’m not really Andarian. I mean, I don’t even remember it.”

“Ah, that’s right, you must have been a babe when Andaria fell. Well she was a beautiful city.” Remembering himself, the innkeeper stuck out a hand, “ Ah, forgive me, my name’s Barl.” After a moment’s hesitation, Aliera took it. Her hand was wet and cold from the rain and somehow the handshake felt very reassuring.

“I-I’m sorry,” Aliera said after a moment, noticing her dripping cloak. “I got water all over your counter.”

Barl snorted. “There’s been worse on that counter, friend. Don’t worry about it.”

“Oh, uh, thanks.” Aliera tried to dry her hand on her cloak, only to remember that her cloak was dripping wet as well.

The innkeeper gave her a moment before giving into his curiosity. “We don’t see many Andarian’s around here.”

The girl swallowed, “Oh! I’m - well, I’m traveling.”

Barl raised an eyebrow. “Traveling, eh?”

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