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Upon entering, the traveler felt hundreds of delicious, enticing aromas. Ale, fresh meat, pastries, perfumes...
Slipping through the crowd of revelers, he took a seat at a table in the corner, where the light wasn't so bright and there weren't many people nearby. The establishment was too bright, a little noisy, a little...
Ordering a mug of good ale, the traveler immersed himself in his thoughts. Shopping, drinking, visiting a friend. At the moment, nothing else interested him. Unnoticed, the traveler dozed off.
Heated arguments were taking place in the establishment, various lewd songs were being sung, and hot bets were being made in card games. All of this harmoniously enveloped its diverse visitors.
At a large table near the cook's counter, a group of people listened intently to the impassioned speech of an inquisitor who had appeared out of nowhere in these parts. A red robe over the strongest chainmail was perfectly fitted, as new, without a single crease, as if it had been sewn right here at this table. The inquisitor had chestnut hair tied in a ponytail, a predatory gaze that constantly searched the crowd for any trace of doubt, a narrow face, and bony hands. No one would believe that such a person could wield a huge hammer with a one-and-a-half-meter handle as a weapon.
Next to the inquisitor sat a warrior in strange plate armor, outwardly resembling oak bark. Unlike the inquisitor, the warrior was silent and seemed to be lost in his own thoughts.
- Sir Loken, but how...?
- Just my distrustful friend! Just!...
*continuation tomorrow, I want to sleep*