Rango Rither’s Western Bar was booming, as it always did as night fell, and all the workers went straight to the taverns. Seraphine recognized most of the misters and missus occupying the creaky wooden chairs, and torn leather booths. Rither’s was a bar that welcomed anyone, so most of the people coming in were the outcasts no one else would open their doors to. People like lizardfolks, dragonborns, tabaxis, poorer folks, just to name a few.