It must be quite intimidating, a, tall, rather muscular wild woman staring at you, her face covered in thick smears of war paint and her attire consisting of nothing but fur and hides, gazing at you with eyes hardened by years of strife, yet that is what the girl had gotten once she stepped into the Frozen Hearth and garnered the Forsworn's attention towards the small, resounding creak of the wood and the slight chilly gust that followed it and raised a few hairs on the back of her neck.  Tarja's eyes moved from the Nord at her side towards the sound of footsteps, light footsteps indicating the person in question was a youth, of fifteen or sixteen winters maybe.  The girl, she looked familiar to Tarja.  Where had she last seen her, this spry youth?  Was she the daughter of a Jarl?  Perhaps someone she had crossed paths with in her time?  It was oddly perplexing to her as she eyed the girl clad in the purest shades of white, albeit a bit smeared by dirt and rubbish.  Must have traveled a long way, as Tarja could tell by her fatigued and sluggish demeanor.  Here was someone in need of a good meal, a good drink, and a good bed indeed.  Still, where has she seen this girl before?

Her eyes skimmed about the tavern, noting her surroundings and those who occupied the space.  Just the typical rabble, Nords, Nords, and more Nords, some of them definitely men of Ulfric, still gathered around their tables clanking tankards, the large stone fireplace crackling with undulating flames of a calming heat and a pleasant orange glow, all while a traveling bard sang of a [url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_j5U2QG_J7k]past hero[/url] and their many endeavors, her dainty fingers gently plucking at her lute, and the haggard drunks gulped their belly’s fill of mead chortling heartily and laughing at many a drunken jest passed back and forth.  There were others who occupied the tavern, a burly orc and his chattering Breton companion, a surprise he hasn't buried an axe in that bastard's head just to shut him up, and yet another male Nord clad in armor, this one speaking to one of those strange lizard-folk from Black Marsh, Argonians they were called.  Tarja had only encountered a few, and of those few...she was weary of their reputation after a while.