It was raining a little outside, and foggy. A person came from the fog, a dazzling blue cloak hiding their face. They enter the tavern and look about. Not too many here today. They stride across the floor to the bar and seat themself and wait to be tended to. As they wait they remove their hood and run their fingers through their light blue hair, fluffing it up after being hidden under the cloak. They take out a small knife and fiddle with it, running their fingers along the blade and looking about. The Tavern had a strange feel to it. The person examined the people in the room, essentially sizing them up. The last thing they wanted was to get into a fight here, let alone [i]now[/i]. They sigh and begin to space out a little, examining the ceiling.