The sound of hammer on anvil is not a strange one for Rowan, though perhsps a bit more prevalent than what she's used to, this being such a small area.  Being familiar with cities, blacksmiths were no oddity, though so many in this town would have seemed odd, if it weren't for the volcano and the reputation of the dwarves who forged using its metals.<br/><br/>She automatically skims the crowd gathered in the tavern, not actively looking for threats, but merely out of curiosity, her emerald gaze pausing at the admittedly odd sight of the massive tortoise looking creature.  She'd seen dwarves, and even a few of the more exotic races, but this was new.  She catches herself staring, and consciously returns her gaze to her food, not wanting to seem rude.  She's gotten plenty of stares herself in the past, but at least in her case, she could count it as due to her face, and not because she looked strange or out of place.  Though her previous profession had necessitated keeping her auburn hair short, which it still was, it still hadn't detracted from her fair features.<br/><br/>Dressed in nondescript studded leather armor, which might strike others as a bit strange, it's become habit for her to dress to be prepared for possible trouble, rather than be caught off guard.  A couple of daggers are also visible for anyone who cares to look, as well as a smaller crossbow.  She takes a tentative sip of her tea, the order of which had gotten her a strange look from the owner of the place.  But Rowan supposed she was used to dwarves, and probably didn't get much human traffic.