The patrons of The Hanged Man may begin to notice a faint, sickly-sweet, slightly-sulfuric smokey smell coming from outside the tavern. They may (or may not) make note of that scent, just as they hear the sound of heavy boots approaching the door. One or two patrons might even look up to take note of the man, who enters a few moments later...
The "man" isn't particularly tall, but he still has to duck his head a bit to get his hat in through the door's arch. He wears his hat at a jaunty angle, and canted forward so that the wide brim shades his eyes. The large blue feather in the hatband bobs, as he throws his still burning cheroot back into the street behind him. He turns his full attention back to the room, resettling his greatcoat's heavy, leather mantle about his shoulders as he quickly surveys the tavern's remaining occupants.
Once he's satisfied with his assessment of his surroundings, he makes his way to the bar. He slides a few coppers across the wooden surface, and leans in toward the bartender speaking in a gruff quiet voice... the words meant for his ears alone. The intent of his communication becomes clear, when the barkeep produces a foaming pint and sets it on thecounter. The "Man in the Hat" takes his mug, and makes his way across the room to an empty table in the back...