The sound of the chair's legs scraping over the worn wood floor drew the swordsman's attention before the woman did; in the bustle of the inn, he hadn't noticed her approach. He eyed her warily as she sat down, giving note to his suspicion while his face remained impassive. Most people didn't bother with making his acquaintance, and those who did always wanted something. Sometimes they were innocent requests, a fellow traveler looking for directions or in need of a strong set of hands. But other times...
After a moment of weighing his response, the swordsman sat slightly forward and brought his elbows onto the table, folding his arms on the edge of the wood. His book, now closed, hung from his hand beneath the table and out of sight.
"From my experience," he said, keeping his voice even. "There are only two kinds of people in this world: those willing to play games, and those who aren't." A slight emphasis on the last phrase indicated which of the two he was. "Is there something you needed, miss?"