Trog's Tavern CLIII

[Hattish Thing]

Interrupting the conversation within, a tall figure slowly, cautiously pushes the door open, weathered hand lingering upon the wood far longer than is necessary. The man, curiously, glances down at his hand as the door opens wide, gliding a few fingers across the wood before wincing slightly as a splinter pierces his flesh.

For longer than is comfortable, the man stares at the splinter before promptly removing it, tossing it to the ground.

--

Wavy locks of well-groomed, light blonde hair cascade down over the man's attractive, angled face, flowing over his broad, angular shoulders, while comfortingly deep, multicolored eyes peer out at the world around him; a luscious chocolate brown as well as a bright, iron-gray. His unusual, beige skin is perfect and unblemished, suggesting a combination of ethnicities, with darkened areas around the eyes which cause his heterochromatic orbs to stand out. The man, likely no more than twenty-five, possesses bold cheekbones which frame his face, as well as full, glossy lips set into a frown.

The mysterious figure is dressed in what appears to be a slightly ragged gray suit which clings tightly to his form, layered below a dark leather trenchcoat, all worn and battered, as if only recently taken from another. Finally, a black cloak crafted of some similar material falls over his shoulders, it's clasp hidden beneath a dark red scarf, the same shade as his gloves, visible as they hang out of the pockets of his coat.

Without gesturing or speaking, the figure steps forward to the bar, turning his head to the side in an almost curious sort of fashion.

--

A moment or so passes as the man proceeds to stare directly towards the barkeep.