So there you were, drinking your ale and minding your own business after a failed run into some nearby ruins that supposedly had some unimaginable treasure deep within them.
You failed to find anything of any value, and after several run-ins with the local skeleton population you called it a night and went back into town emptyhanded.
Wanting to drink away the sting of immense failure, you booked a room at the local tavern/bar, one "Hilda's Drunken Drake", owned by a muscular but attractive Dwarf by the name of Hilda Bronze-Bender, who was quite friendly and jovial but had a bad temper when it came to people skipping out on paying their tabs,
"Oi, I sure hope that's not all he's drinkin? These humans are real lightweights..." You heard the Goblin wench mutter to Hilda, who was managing the bar. The wench was in a standard barmaid outfit, which showed off her modest but perky breasts. Her ass was very visible though her skirt, and it was quite large in comparison to her breasts.
"Aw well, don't judge the lad too much, 'pparently he tried goin' down into Ol' Rot's dungeon, and like everyone else whose tried, didn't find dick-diddley." Hilda responded to the younger goblin girl. "Besides, you don't get paid by the amount of drinks they have, Toft."
"True, but the drunker they are the more they tip!" Toft cackled before she walked off to attend to more of the bars patrons.
"Ugh, yeah, you'll get a lot for me." You mutter, before downing the rest of your ale, and starting to get up from your seat... before blacking out!
When you woke back up, you were staring into your warped reflection in your mug, which now towered over you along with every other object on your table!
"What the---!?!?" You start to say, before the ground started shaking as someone approached your table, which you were now standing on at three inches tall!
All you can do now is hope and pray that whoever was approaching you was going to help...