Liath walks into the warm tavern, and takes a big lungful of the air, rich with woodsmoke, ale and some lovely smelling food.

She finds herself a place to sit, weary after her long journey from the north. The ale is good, sweet with local herbs, unlike the heather ale that she drinks at home.

Pushing her black hair behind her ears, she sees an arm wrestling contest about to get underway. Liath sits forward and awaits the outcome with interest.