We’ve nearly reached the village known as Frayston, our destination according to the Lady, as we passed several folks bearing a mix of various dejected expressions of subdued fear. Surely what the Lady seeks might lie elsewhere, if not, she’d best find whoever or whatever it is quick. So close to the western wall of the Darklands, I can’t imagine how these people could survive living here. Ah, she has picked up her pace and heads toward a lighted building. Can’t she wear something less obvious and try to blend in with the somber mood of this place? I wrapped my cloak tighter about me as she strode boldly inside shining like a beacon in the dark. I shook my head towards Hawgr as we both followed her in as I pulled my hood closer to my head so that my face is shadowed enough to not place me as a stranger in these parts.
The feeling of oppression suddenly lifted as we took in the sights and sounds of those inside. It seems that these walls held at bay the looming darkness outside, as various folks enjoyed each other’s company with food, wine and merriment. My elven eyes quickly spied an under dweller among them and my knuckles turned white as the Lady’s armor, so tight did I held my staff. I tried to caution her but she briskly cut me off calling out loud the innkeeper for food and lodging. All eyes riveted their attention on her first, then slowly took in Hawgr and my presence by the doorway. A few individuals i took a brief look over, but my concern was torn between the Lady and for the odd looking dwarf who kept staring at my staff. I walked over to Charisma as she extended her hand to the surprised innkeep who stammered his name, Thaddeus. Rolling my eyes, I saved the man from further troubles by requesting that we have our meals upstairs. Unfortunately, the rooms the Lady required were not yet fully prepared so we were relegated to spend time in the common room to hear the performance of a local minstrel who thankfully distracted most of the patrons.
While supping, each of our attention were caught by one handsome man at the bar, who spoke to Charisma with a matter of fact tone. He called himself Charles Jillandre. According to Thaddeus, he never saw him entered but instead he informed us that our rooms are ready and that we can go up anytime. Another individual, a stern and wearied looking man nursing a tankard and smoking a pipe, listened in on our conversation and overheard the Lady’s verbal exchange with Charles. He appeared disinterested but he would occasionally reply something back to what his dwarven companion would say, while staring at our direction. Trying to determined the two’s intentions, i spoke to Hawgr and mentioned my intent to separate the two as Charles took his abrupt exit.