"Oh, by Athena's grace, pleaaaase let that be a bath--" the cleric murmurs as she steps up her pace to a rapid trot-- It feels<i>amazing</i>to be out of the restrictive clothing, the hip-deep snow, and the numbing, stinging cold.  The sun on her pale body is luxurious enough, and though her armor is heavy and martially sound, it's elegant enough to pass as a luxury item.  The leather slats that cover her ass bounce teasingly as she makes her way across the square, the first eager steps clanking her sword and shield a bit before she restrains herself.  She then strides quickly enough to make a good pace past the pool and the buildings, circling the plaza with eager curiosity.<br/><br/>She heads to the door of the steaming building like a moth drawn to flame.  Before knocking or trying the door, she must seriously consider which would be appropriate, so she pauses instead... she quickly smooths her hand over her hair-- oh, hell, it needs a wash so bad-- and readjusts her posture, and-- almost forgetting, draws from under her breastplate the skin-warm silver emblem of Athena's helmet, a perfect match for the crest on her shield.<br/><br/>She then decides to err on the side of caution... she looks up and around, and if there's no shingle or sign to indicate this as a place of business open to the public, she knocks with the leather-clad palm of her gauntlet to avoid scratching or dinging the door.