Pazo, the burely Tauren bartender smelling of sulfur and assorted alchohols, stares at you blankly from behind the counter as you attempt to mount the overly large stool before you.
"Pazo great with many grins," the simple Tauren attempts to explain using a slurred dialect of common. "Of order drink?"
Baffled by this creature's missuse of the common tongue, you decide to...