The already rowdy tavern reminded Les of her days in the Laughing Gallows. She shakes her head at the idle memory and strides toward the granite cobbles to the establishment's entrance-way. She pauses for a moment, taking in the laughing, the clink of glasses and the shouts as everyone tries to be heard over the commotion. A sly smile traces its way across her face, this would surely be interesting.
She slides the door open and quickly steps inside, letting it drift shut behind her. A few eyes look her way before going back to their conversations; just another adventurer seeking glory, gold or some fairytale ideal. Les smooths out the leather shirt she's wearing and moves toward the bar.
"Wine, something local and red, if you'd please." Les winks at the barkeep and flips a few coins his way, making sure they land in a perfect stack before him. The silver coins will hopefully net her something other than a noxious watered down drink. The man nods and heads off to the back, scooping up her coins on the way.
With this tradition completed, Les takes in her surroundings. Humans, elves, dragonborn, a few dwarves and some tieflings make up only a portion of the large crowd. The dearth of tables is something of a sordid thought, but she will have to do with standing at the bar.
After noticing that all who enter seem to proclaim in loud voices their professions and names, Les contemplates her own lack of following this ritual. Perhaps that is what had drawn those glances when she entered? She slides her way through the crowd to a few of the more interesting looking figures. Les leans on the bar with two wizards to the right and two dwarves to the left. The bright coloured one reminded her of her childhood.
"Good afternoon, fellows. Would any of you by chance know of anyone seeking mercenaries?"
