John took the lead as Stephen lingered outside briefly. He stepped away from the main thoroughfare, seeking the shade of a nearby building and the obfuscation it provided. There, the sorcerer drew forth another spell; this one drew from the third circle of the Arcana of Mind, the Practice of Weaving. The enchantment wove through his brain and tongue and connected them to a universal understanding of language. Three small circles, one at each ear and one at his mouth. As information passed through them, the circle's dimensional energy (connected to the realm of Pandemonium) would translate for him into a language he could understand or one the listeners could understand, respectively. Imminently useful, he reckoned. When the spell finished and the circles disappeared from view, Strange stepped inside.
Reuniting with his traveling companion, Strange surveyed the interior. He could see patrons, both human and stranger, eyeing them up amidst their conversations. Wherever they had just stepped into, it became clear that wasn't just a desert bar. It was also a place of business, and they were strangers.
"We are in the right place, I reckon," he said and followed John to the bar. "Although the issue of currency does present itself as a problem. I hope you're an excellent conjure man. Or an illusionist, if all else fails."