A Strong Drink

Storm walks into the tavern wearing a long cloak covered in animal furs and using her glaive as a walking stick. She doesn't say a word to anyone but walks up to the bar and takes a seat. She sets her glaive against the bar and waves the bartender over.

"Whatever your strongest drink is, please." Storm sets a gold piece on the counter and sighs. 

The barkeep turns to tend to her drink and Storm drags a heavy hand down her face before dropping her hand to the bar. She looks down at the wooden counter and her eyes glaze over as though she is lost in thought.