At the behest of the woman walking over to the problem table, most of the inn patrons found places to divert their attention. Whatever had been happening was over, and much of their speculation was directed at the boy who had come and left with only a disturbance at his destination to characterize his stay. It took some time for the morning chatter of the Crossroads to return to normal, but as things slowed down someone whose attention had been more permanently drawn to the odd trio of patrons could venture out towards their table, somewhat timidly and more than wary of the drama ensuing in the capital following her own close encounter with it. Feril Tatchet was grateful to see someone she knew around town, but misfortune had apparently found them already, and whatever joy she felt was spoiled by the worry that had her looking over her shoulder at the door continuously. It was an odd kind of relief, she didn't know them beyond an exchange of names, but that was more than she had with anyone else in the city. She slunk up to the table, glancing between the familiar faces and speaking quietly, "Gareth! Sophia! I can't believe it's you. Are you all right? What's going on? Some bell started ringing and a knight snuck me out over the wall in the night. The guards were all acting weird, the one we met the knight tried to kill. Did the Order send you off too?" She gradually slowed, arresting her rambling questions to wait anxiously for the first semblance of sense in two days.