A woman quietly enters the tavern. Looking around nervously, she hurries towards the furthermost table in the room, which happens to be the one you are sitting at. The stranger cowers in her chair, tugging at the edges of her cloak to appear more inconspicuous. Soon, several tough-looking guards barge in, and begin methodically scanning the visitors, searching the place. She gives them a quick glance, then stares at you intently from the shadow of her hood. You sense a hint of plea in her gaze