[indent][indent]The evening wore on in a way that is lightless, beneath the heavy cliffs of Teluval. The passage of time in Teluval is abysmal. The hours kept only by the great stone and brass clock nestled into a rocky crevice on The Pagans' Precipice, and someone had forgotten to wind it today. The thundering chime of the old bell had fallen silent just after the hour of Suncrest, when the ancient orange sun had passed the cliffs tops.  

Despite the operatic performance of the trio of performers, they finished their latest piece to a smattering of applause. Blue smoke curled from behind a curtained booth, a long slender leg emerged, and disappeared to the sound of giggles and kisses. A glass shattered somewhere in a dark corner of the bar. An automaton bleeped and mewed. A grumbler...grumbled. 

The barkeep, a pale skinned man of indistinguishable age, and dressed more impecabbly for the occupation he occupied cursed the name of some dead god and grabbed a broom. He tottered out from behind his stone bar, accompanied by an automaton not 4 feet high. The little critter's head was a mess of glass and metal, and he waddled on three single-jointed legs. The barkeep pointed, and the automaton flicked a switch on the side of it's head, illuminating the corner where the glass fell in silky blue light. The barkeep cleaned up and thanked his employee. The automaton whistled softly and disappeared behind the bar once more. 

The companions sat quietly at a table. A bard, a tinkerer and a warrior. A wizard of some repute had entered the hall minutes before the glass had shattered, bought and payed for his drink. Outside, just down the stone corridor one could hear heavy footfalls, and the distinct tinkling electric of city-watch batons. Voices were shouting, men searching. 

[i]"He went that way-wait...NO THIS WAY!"[/i] came a shout among the commotion outside. The footsteps passed the little wine-garden and the wizard relaxed enough to remove his hood revealing a mass of vivid red hair. 

The companions sat, each thumbing a small coin that had come into their posession, or soon would, not knowing what the other carried or what they intended. The night, very late, yet very young, grew old in a way. Time was funny like that in Teluval.[/indent][/indent]