Leo walked up the aged stone stairs outside the town hall. A pair of heavy wooden doors hung on slightly rusted hinges. He pushed on the door, it creaked slightly but did not open. It appeared that it was locked, so he knocked on the door. A few moments later a rather stressed looking scribe opened the door.

“Yes, yes, what is it?” he said hurriedly.

“My name is Leo De Haven, I trust that you received the message from the Royal Barracks?” Leo replied.

“Ah, I remember. Unfortunately, there’s no-one else here but me. The other scribes and officials have all left for the day.”

Leo thanked the scribe and returned to the square feeling a bit disappointed. Having not had much luck with speaking to the town officials, he started to think about organising a place to stay. Although this train of thought was interrupted when someone asked him a question. The person in question appeared to be half-elven, like Leo was.

“The inn? I’m sorry, my friend, I have only just arrived here myself. But, Rosashire is not a large town, surely it cannot be too far.” Leo said.

A quick survey of the square revealed a tavern, outside of which hung a wooden sign with faded paint. The red lettering on the sign had begun to flake, but the words were still fairly clear. It read ‘The Red Lion Tavern’. Leo pointed to the building, “I think that might be the building we are looking for.”

The inside of the Red Lion Tavern was fairly inviting, a number of people were gathered around the wooden tables with foaming tankards of the local ale in their hands. There were still several tables free, even though it appeared that a good portion of the population of Rosashire had decided to come for a drink. Most of the people here seemed to be keeping to themselves, talking and gossiping quietly with those at their tables. To the left of the bar was a set of stairs leading to the upper floor. To the right was a hearth where some wood burned slowly.  It kinda reminded Leo of the tavern his parents owned.

It had been a long day of travelling, so Leo made his way to the bar where a number of empty stools stood. He ordered a mug of ale from the bartender and handed over two silver coins. The ale was not the best he had drunk, but it was hardly the worst either.

[hr]

Nuala was gone for a few moments and then she wandered back to Seymour’s table, having given the patrons their drinks. She absent mindedly wiped the table with some cloth. She sighed before speaking.

“I’ll tell you what I’ve heard…” she paused for dramatic effect, “People have been vanishing.” 

As she spoke, it seemed like the atmosphere inside the pub became more serious for just a moment. She waited for a moment, letting what she had just said sink in. 

“So, what do you think?”