His arms are crossed and his expression is incredulous. You can see your face reflected in his gaudy gold and silver plate armor. The cleric next to him, in a much more discreet grey chainmail cloak, takes one look at you and says "Yeah, this one." Then, to you, she says "Hey, you looking for group?"

The tavern is dark and crowded, with a disproportionate number of dark corners for mysterious quest-givers to lurk in. Adventurers of all ages and experience levels mingle and chat, the bar overflowing with alcohol since nobody keeps currencies less than gold pieces and a beer costs a single copper.

Who are you, and why did the cleric single you out?