Linara

She clenched her jaw, shifting anxiously as the crowd bustled within the smoky, ragged tavern. The stress of her profession, and lack of coin contributed to her flushed cheeks, and sweaty brow—Her burlap cloak, and worn linen clothing weighed down her, yet they were practically sheets compared to the meticulously crafted armour of the mercenaries, and adventurers around her. Her cheeks flushed as a Dwarven nobleman wanders past and grimaces at her with disapproval. Linara inhales slowly, sighs and massages her temples in frustration "I'll be labouring in the cairns before I get another contract" She thought to herself

Her blue eyes methodically scanned the crowd, scanning for possible clients, or contract brokers. Seasoned adventurers and mercenaries with tarnished weapons and battleworn armours chortle together and stampede past, bumping into her table and knocking over her mug of ale. They continue on without so much as a second glance. Linara groans angrily through her teeth "UGH! These bastards are probably in the service of some snobby bastard, else wise they wouldn't be acting like folk are made of coin!" She rolled her eyes and flicked the crumbs of food away from the table she was sitting at, before she threw a greasy linen cloth down on top of the fizzling beer that had spilled over