There is a sigh as the door closes behind Milli.  The warmth of the Inn felt so good after trudging thru the cold, driving rain.  A hand reaches up, slipping her helmet off, her long raven black hair plastered to her face and neck and back.  Blue eyes, weary from the long trip, sweeping about the room as she holds the helmet under her arm.  She starts to tug on the straps of her thoroughly soaked studded leather armor, tugging on them as she listens to Madam Falconer.  Two short swords dangle from her belt, their scabbards plain and unadorned of any etchings or other designs.  The hilt of a dagger can be seen sticking out her right boot, and a long bow dangles from her back, as well as a backpack and quiver of arrows.  She stands tall, at five feet eight inches tall, and slander, maybe 140 pounds.<br/><br/>Miillitana was a bit disappointed hearing that the bath chamber was occupied, having looked forward to a nice warm bath.  Having gotten one strap free, starts on another, quietly watching the others, seeing what they will do.  Part of her about to try the bath even if it meant being with this Lord Grenoille.  Whoever that was. Lightly biting her bottom lip as she watches and waits.