@corvusborne // starter call
Valeera typically avoids popular haunts like this; too loud, too odorous, and too significant a chance that her presence might be noted. But a snarling stomach, chafing feet, and the mouth-watering scents wafting from the tavern have temporarily amended her views. A lone blood elf will be conspicuous among the Orc riff-raff, but she will not be recognized. Decided, she slips inside, glowing green eyes immediately but subtly assessing the cluttered interior and the raucous patrons that crowd it. Many are already drunk and could be easily disabled – but the slender figure at the bar piques her interest. She is not alone, after all. All the better.
Curiosity pulls her to perch on the wobbly stool beside the sin’dorei, but she does not look directly at her. The barkeep slams a stein down in front of her in exchange for a handful of coppers, and she watches the dark puddle of brew sloshed from the cup fill the scars in the timber, her voice pitched low, “You’re a long way from home.”
