Following the noise would lead her to a plain-looking building from whose windows the mixture of laughter, talk, arguments, and off-key singing poured out. Swinging over the tavern door was a crudely-made wooden sign depicting a dog upright on his hind legs in a sort of odd jig, and the painted words 'The Dancing Hound' scrawled beneath. Judging from the raucous voices within, it was popular enough, and inside the place was packed with common folk, many of whom seemed to be greatly enjoying themselves on the local ale and beer. No one gave her more than a cursory glance as she made her way in - most were too busy with their own concerns, anyway.

Here and there serving-girls moved between the tables with trays of drinks and food, and in one corner a skinny bard was playing a half-way decent song on his worn-looking lyre, but was mostly drowned out by the talking. Above everything else, the talking - of work and weather and the quality of the alcohol, and more of course. Plenty of callous-handed farmers and labourers here, packed around the wooden tables and exchanging tales and bawdy jokes, and a handful of transients, mostly sellswords and travellers. 

Over at the counter, a gruff-looking barman accompanied by twin teenaged boys, likely his sons, was doling out tankards of drinks and plates of edibles to the serving-girls. Such types usually knew a thing or two about good leads, or at least where one could find someone who did. As well, there was bound to be some useful gossip to be gotten from the servers themselves - drunks tended to be quite loose with their words, sometimes usefully so. Or, if she cared to, there were a few of her own type hanging around - travellers with well-used leather armor under plain cloaks, with the occasionally-seen dagger at their hip, their odd looks and mannerisms marking them out from the crowd of locals as easily as crows in a flock of sparrows. 

As well, on the wall near the door was a collection of flyers and posters tacked to the boards - official proclamations, wanted notices, things like that. Among the usual suspects of highwaymen, thieves, and murderers, there was a particular posting which had several of the adventurer-types crowded around to look at, muttering excitedly to themselves over the offered reward and the requested feat. Whatever it was, judging by the attention it was getting it was either something spectacular like a nobleman's kidnapping, or something totally outlandish with an equally wild reward. 

Besides all that, if she was keen to find someone worth taking back to her rented room, there were a handful of choices - younger farmers, tradesmen, apprentices of every stripe - and surprisingly, more than a few were actually fair to good-looking. Though she might have to compete with the handful of other women about, not all of whom seemed to be married and at least two of whom seemed to be practitioners of the so-called oldest profession. Still from the looks of things she about had her pick if she wanted it. 

All in all, a fairly ordinary tavern with fairly ordinary people, but with a little luck and effort she might be able to suss out a good opportunity, or at least find some comfort for the night.