Valissa Tenderlind

(I look to the entrance as I hear the doors open to see a small figure enter my tavern: you. I chuckle at your bedraggled visage. You've obviously had a rough time of it lately. I smile as you approach the bar and struggle to climb into one of the too-tall-for-you barstools. I pour you an ale and place it in front of you.) On the house; you look like you could use it, Miss. (I don't miss the twitch in your expression as I said, "Miss." You must be the one from the rumors.)