The light grows dim as day fades and night falls upon Darken Vale. Otec lights the lanterns that hang either side of the heavy wooden tavern doors. He glances up at the sign above the door and shakes his head. He still thought of his tavern as The Hangman’s Rest and whilst he appreciates the Fae and their presence, he is still a bit saddened by the changes. He nods at the two satyr sentinels guarding the door and walks back inside. The candles are lit on the tables and the fire burns hot down the far corner. He glances around at some of the stalls inside, the merchants now packing up their wares, and sighs. He loves his little place, It’s not much but it’s home to him and now many others.
Now that the evening is really falling, a young man, probably no more than his twentieth year, approaches Otec and smiles. On his back he carries a guitar.
“Hello Sir, I’m Croal. I’m just passing through and was hoping I could hire a room for the night. I have a small amount of copper but I can provide you with an evening of entertainment in trade?”
Otec smiles back at the boy. “It would be a pleasure to have a good bard around for once. Set yourself up but the fire, son.”
The Tavern is quite quiet this evening, but he suspects a few folk may pop their heads in tonight, take in a few drinks or a meal and enjoy each other’s company, and now with the evening’s entertainment, perhaps it could end as quite the party.