The door to the tavern swings open and a women, perhaps around her mid-twenties walked in, her eyes a hazy swirl of turquoise and tan, long black hair blown about by the wind that seemed to spring up from the door. She raised her hand to the patrons and looked back at the outside of the tavern, clearly concerned about something, before breathing a sigh of relief and walking into the tavern proper, her boots thumping against the floor.

She was reasonably tall, perhaps 5'8" or 5'9", and an unlit cigarette dangled from her lips, one that she quickly tucked away into a pocket, tossing a stray part of the scarf back over her shoulder as she sat down, not batting an eye at the odd patrons. From a pocket of her shirt, a starch white formal affair that seemed to conceal more than it showed, she pulled out a heavy golden coin, which made a satisfying metallic 'clunk' as it landed on the table.

[@Snarfulblast] "Hey. Margarita please, hold the salt. Know where I am exactly? I sort of just stepped through a portal and... In a tavern."