Med and Pral step through the back door of the High Road Inn and find themselves in the huge room which serves as lobby, tavern, dining hall, and trophy room. The room is roughly square, perhaps fifty feet on a side, and built of large stones which are irregular but carefully mortared. At the center of the room is a massive stone chimney with hearths opening in four directions. The mounted heads of a moose, a bear, a mountain goat and a cougar stare out from above the four mantles. Great wooden beams span from the walls to rest in the masonry of the chimney and support the upper floor. On the north and south walls, stout wooden stairways lead to balconies that give access to the inn's two long, three-storied wings.
A man in his thirties with short-cropped blond hair and a cleft chin stands behind the polished pine counter top that serves as a bar. He laughs as he sees the two men approaching.
"Thumbs' brew didn't get the job done, eh? The man is a gentle soul and a generous host, but that fungus broth ruined his sense of taste before the gods woke. I just tapped a keg of right ale from Splitrock for these gents", he points with his chin at the five rowdy young men in the far corner, the only group in the room. "Pour you a--"
He stops and looks up at the north balcony where a balding, rotund figure has emerged wearing red and black livery embroidered in silver with an emblem of waves and stars. The man looks down at the boisterous table and clears his throat. The five lads, look up at him. He closes his eyes for a moment, gathering courage before he speaks.
"My lady requests that you endeavor to engage in your revelry more quietly, for she must rise early to reach the Sisterhood before tomorrow evening."
The boys look at each other, smirking. "Aye?", one calls, "An’ who's yer lady?"
"The Countess Grau. She is come all the way from Ailmoran to speak with the Oracle."
This response is met with a long silence. Finally, the boys return grumpily--but quietly--to their ale. The steward disappears back into the north wing.
The barkeeper shakes his head and hands you a tray with four mugs of ale. “Take these, no charge. I know that's three free rounds of drinks, but I feel bad about the first two. No one should have to drink that stuff.”
Back outside, Med sits down and Pral is just setting the tray on the table when everyones’ heads turn simultaneously. Somewhere in the darkened cluster of buildings to the south, within a hundred yards or so, everyone hears a shout of surprise and fear. A heartbeat later, there is another cry, this time the howl of a man in agony.
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