As Lorin Silverith stepped over the threshold and into the the tavern her green eyes were already surveying everyone in the room, from the farmers who sat at the bar and at the tables, to the few cloaked travelers, to the two tall men sitting in the back of the tavern in the shadows. They were especially intriguing, and she could assume what kind of men they were, the kind of men she needed.
It was obvious that one of the men had just joined the first, and had spoken, but, despite Lorin's elvish hearing, the noise of the tavern blocked out his words. Lorin made her way towards the men, the elf's long black hair falling down her back, despite the fact that it was in a high ponytail.
Being a thief, Lorin was quite adept at hiding and blending in, but now she made no effort to, and turned a few heads. She was quite beautiful, and despite being only eighteen, looked like a woman. A few of the farmer's wives glared at her, their husbands were taking notice of her despite her dark green skin.
Lorin walked up to the table, ignoring everyone else in the room save the two men, she looked down at them.
"Hello," she said calmly, crossing her arms and raising one thin black eyebrow. "I'm in need of assistance."
