Click. Click. Click. Swish... click... drip...
The figure of a woman, shadowed beneath a huge green greatcoat, dripping with muddy water, walked across the common room of the Seventh Star and sat down in an empty chair near the fire. Not a word, not a sound, no noise came from her person, save the faint dripping of her coat. She stared into the fire, consumed with deep personal thought.
The time would soon come, she knew. No doubt about it; since she had chosen to leave little Mir in the care of Adannon, she had felt the weight heavy in her heart... the day was coming when she would be called to ride again. But in whose service? Who would Karigan of Gondor serve?
Finally she stood. Advancing over to a table with empty seats at it, she looked at the free folk sitting around it, trying to discern if there was a leader. "Is there room for another traveler at this table?"
Her voice was the slightest bit gravelly, a little low for a woman, though her face showed her quite clearly to be a still young female of the human race, though she stood only 5'2". Nothing remarkable about her person in the slightest, unless it could be her hands, which, gloved in brown leather, bore white trees. Nothing remarkable at all.
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"How is a man to judge what to do in such times?"
"As he ever has judged. Good and ill have not changed since yesteryear."
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