The rhythmic banter of the perpetual downpour resounds clamorously through the otherwise hushed inn as the portal is thrown open once more, cloaked figurine rushing from the stinging chill of the autumn rain. A dainty, stygian-gloved hand ascends to gingerly draw back the cloak hood, exposing the perfectly conformed features of a well-bred lady. Matching mitt rises as well to transfer delicate, swarthy lace veil from high-pinned curls of luxuriant gold to shoulders. Genial violet gems survey the f'mora's surroundings in a quiet interest simper toying with coral lips as gloves are removed and neatly tucked into an inner pouch of the cloak. Slender dactyls draw upward to brush a few stray satin twists from her cheek, perfect ivories biting deliberatively upon the lower of duo kissers as her regard shifted from the charming architecture of the inn to the occupants thereof. Lustrous gaze compassing from one to the next in half concealed interest ere reposing to the mistress of the lodge. Wine please. Red. With her request sent politely forth she then traversed to a vacant table near the back, seating herself in one of the two available chairs.