"Hoooo-eeh! It's raining buckets out-", a cheerful if slightly damp soprano announced as the door swung open again. The voice cut off at the sight of the armed trio right in front of it. Leaning to one side such that her blonde ponytail dangled at right-angles to her head, Dyani Forrath peered around the gang, sky-blue eyes wide with mingled amusement and curiosity as she caught sight of the woman at the table. The diminutive girl wore a brown leather greatcoat and a breastplate, atop thick black trousers and buckled boots. At her waist hung a sheathed narrowblade, with a bulge at the other side of her coat which might have suggested another weapon hidden beneath.
"Hey there, sir!", she addressed the norn from behind, giving him a toothy, cheek-dimpling grin. "Mind if a girl comes in and dries off? Or am I interrupting a hold-up?" The accent was unusual - definitely Queensdale, but with an Archer twang.