She walked into the bar, but stopped as soon as the door closed behind her. The bar was pitch black and until her eyes became accustomed, she decided to linger at the entrance. Slowly, figures emerged though the smoky haze and she could see the silhouettes of well over a dozen bikers seated on bar stools at a tall, long table. Their features seemed to form before her eyes and considering that they all were veterans, she was somewhat dismayed by their gnarly appearance. Certainly, they were showered and clean, but tattooed all over, with piercings in unusual places and long beards and baldheads. Surprisingly, they were her age or a bit older. In another time, another life, she could have as easily walked into a pirate’s den.