"De... broo k'n... dee broo-k'n... huh."

Tongzka the Bardovan dockworker was exhausted. Never in his life has he had to trek on foot through uncivilised, undeveloped wilderness for that long. There were so many trees around, quite honestly, the four-foot-tall alien found it exhilarating. He'd seen a couple trees back in Zapruzhatza, but they were all in parks. And they made a sort of 'BWONG' noise when you knocked on them. These were more rough and infested with worms, and generally not very nice.

Now, in his exhaustion, he had reached a building that he presumed was some kind of Cantina, what with the great emblem of a drinking implement on the front. But the words above it confused him; they were written in some bizarre language he'd never seen before.

"Dee Broo-k'n D'rem." He finally settled on after a good fifteen attempts at pronouncing the name. He rubbed his top antennae with one hand, adjusting the Thermal Lance strapped to his back with the other. Never left home without it. Hopefully, with a bit of luck, it'd come in handy for communicating with the locals he'd seen, what with their elaborate stage magic culture. One of them managed to trick him into thinking he'd shot fire out his hand, and it was so well-done, Tongzka actually caught fire for a few seconds. Tongzka couldn't help but be impressed.

Tongzka wandered... or 'pattered' might be a better term... inside the building. Yet more evidence of low tech in the area, he noticed, what with the lack of central heating. Or metal. That was another thing he wasn't used to; everything was so brown. It was so brown, in fact, that he could practically taste the brownness on his slick tongue. It tasted like Favelanian chocolate liquer.

He pattered up to what he assumed was the bar, though it was a bit difficult to tell considering that it wasn't that big and didn't even have a cover over it. The seats were too big and unwieldy as well. Tongzka gingerly lifted himself up onto one of them, fearful that he might get deadly poisonous splinters.

"...K'dav?" He called out, in the hopes of attracting the attention of whoever owned this establishment. "Miz be-fli tep'ru-tza debka. An'ma... uh..." He paused and considered his words, realising that the locals probably don't know what a 'Teleporter' is. "...Miz dan'run ode-muz'sa."