Night had settled over the Tavern like a familiar cloak, bringing with it the kind of mountain chill that drove sensible folk indoors to seek warmth and companionship.
Witch and her knight had retired to the upper floors, led by Willem.
But the tavern hadn’t; Its common room was packed with locals who found comfort in numbers and ale when faced with the unsettling presence of strangers in their midst.
Word had spread through the settlent like wildfire about the new arrivals.
Beyond Morgana and her silent knight, other figures had been glimpsed moving through the darkness—shadowy forms that avoided the main paths and spoke in whispers when they thought no one was listening.
The mountain folk were a hardy breed, accustod to harsh weather and the occasional predator, but the arrival of so many outsiders in a single day had set nerves on edge throughout the community.
There wasn’t anything odd about the new arrivals, but it was just new to them, seeing new people all of a sudden. After all, it was a cold mountain village; not many would like to stay here if not for brief intervals.
Still, life continued with the stubborn persistence that characterized the mountain settlents. Children were tucked into beds with extra stories to chase away bad dreams, cattle were secured in barns with additional care, and the adults gathered in the tavern to share news and speculation in equal asure.
At their familiar table near the hearth, Jaenor sat with his three closest companions, though the dynamic had shifted with the addition of Rena to their usual group.
The young woman had claid the chair beside Taeryn, her black hair catching the firelight as she listened to the animated conversation swirling around them. She wore a dress of deep green wool that complented her colouring, and there was sothing different about her deanour—a nervous energy that hadn’t been there in previous days.
Baren held court at the centre of attention, his weathered face split by a grin so wide it threatened to crack his jaw. He was gleaming with joy.
The blacksmith’s powerful hands gestured expansively as he recounted the afternoon’s unexpected developnts, his voice carrying easily over the general hubbub of the crowded room.
"Aldein approached just after the noon al," he explained for what had to be the fifth ti that evening.
"Formal as you please, speaking of dowries and bloodlines and the rits of practical matches. His daughter Ryanna needs a husband, and apparently, I’ve been deed suitable for the task."
"OHH!" Taeryn and Jaenor were surprised to hear the news.
"When did this happen?" Jaenor asked.
Taeryn gave Baren a mischievous look and said, "You have been secretly coveting her, haven’t you, and worked your way to her father?"
Baren was blushing hard but nodded his head.
Jaenor slapped him on his shoulder, "Really, Baren, that’s good, man."
Taeryn was hugging him from the side, and Rena also congratulated him.
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