The night had been on for some time, the air chilled and nipping at the skin just enough to keep a layer on. From outside a tavern Dariya had wandered, gauging the area before entering the building. It was quaint, quiet, one may even describe the place as dingy; it was not a high class establishment by any means.
She slipped in through the door, sharp wine-red eyes taking note of her surroundings. The woman’s lip curled for a brief moment, ‘til her face returned to its resting position of stoicism as she walked to the bar and heeded the barkeep for a drink. Whisky, from the sounds of it.
Dariya was not much to look at, beyond being an odd sort of figure. A white coat hung from her lanky frame, beneath that a knitted sweater and red scarf. She was all-around well put together, even as a woman who had been traveling for some time if the pack on her back had anything to say about it.
{ For @ourladyoftears }
She was allowed a few short minutes to herself, until she felt a chill, like someone was watching her; thankfully, since the place was so empty, it was easy to find who it was. In the far corner, seated alone at a booth, was a man. He was leaned forward in his seat, hovering over an open book with a drink in hand. It was difficult to see their features under the hood they were wearing, but she could see one of their eyes glowing in the dim room, staring at her.
The elf was covered from the neck down; the armor she wore was simple, but looked like it would protect her fine enough, and around her shoulders was a large cape made of gray fur. He had thick leather gloves on, which strangely had metal tips at the ends of each finger, almost resembling short claws. There was practically no color to be found on them, aside from their dark red hair, which even then was almost entirely swallowed by streaks of white. It didn't look like she had anything else with her aside from the book--there were no weapons in sight, and no bags of any kind.
She didn't move at all, only inclining her head slightly. It's almost as if they're expecting Dariya to walk over.
Varyne didn't know why he did this, the whole point of him being here was to scope out the place, and see who he could potentially get away with feeding from before hopping to the next town. But, something told them she was someone who needed help.
Dariya was not one to deny her own interest, sliding coin over to the barkeep with a wave to keep any of the spare change. She plucked the glass up and gave the drink a quick sniff and a drink, a small nod once she swallowed. Glass in hand, the woman wandered over towards Varyne.
Up closer there was not much different about her. A pale countenance, dark red eyes. Brown hair that neared black, with a thick grey streak through it even if she still seemed a bit young for such. The scent of her reeked of alcohol, yet it was less than that of a drunk and more of someone who valued sterilization and cleanliness over all.
She slid into the seat across from him, taking another sip. “You look like you need conversation, da?” Dariya asked, her voice low and thick with an accent that sounded like it may be from some northern type of region.
