Nightwind’s home

A soft mist was hovering over the dark path leading up the hill when the young elf began his ascension. Night’s darkness crept in from all around while the last shadows of the evening waged their last futile battle under a dim moonlight. His eyes sought to pierce the dark and they did without much difficulty. Being of the elven race, he was gifted with magic vision that revealed every shape even in pitch black.

He hastened his pace upwards toward the inn driven by the eerie feeling that evil eyes were tracking his movement. Step by step he came closer and closer to the journeyman’s sanctuary. A step and one more and his hand rested on the heavy door handle which he pushed vigorously. He was inside. A though of gratitude was launched at his deity for having been able to find a good night’s rest.

A sigh of relief escaped his lips while his eyes undertook the task of scouting around the room. It was a simple place, a large common room filled with several tables each served by five chairs. A couple of steel chandeliers hanging on a rafter provided a rather poor light as several candles were out and the rest could not cast enough light to shred every shadow in the room. The hearth’s vigorous fire was stretching is magic towards a rather large and heavy couch near the rightmost side of the room, a rather secluded place enshrouded in a dark aura. Somewhere on the opposite side of the door he could spot a spiraling staircase, undoubtedly the passage to the upstairs where the guests chambers were.

“May I help you”? A deep voice inquired. Still it took the visitor a full moment to identify the source of the inquiry, which was in fact a rather large bartender. The man moved slowly to meet the newcomer, while trying to asses his persona.

The traveler was a rather tall figure, tightly wrapped in a dark cloak, the only thing protruding from under its shape being a long bastard sword. As if to answer to the bartender’s curious gaze, the traveler lowers his cloak, revealing a pale elven face that bore the marks of past pains. The elf’s dark eyes appeared vividly in contrast with his skin yet their light seemed somewhat pale. As the bartender looked at him, the elf seemed to be avoiding his gaze, trying to look busy with discarding his cloak on the couch.