[b][h3]Gall and the Innkeeper[/h3][/b]
[b]Cracked Tankard[/b]
[hr]
[i][b]The Innkeeper[/b][/i]
The Innkeeper had watched in fear as the first few tankards of ale went down the monstrous throats of the two creatures until he realized he was making a handsome profit on the two. It didn't take long for the old man to start pre-pouring drinks with a grin on his dusty face. If the two kept going he would have enough money to retire, sell the inn, and move to a house near the river going through Anvil. 

[i][b]Gall[/b][/i] 
The old plainsman seemed to be beaten down by the words of Tristan. He had once again failed his people because he did not know how to act in the presence of civilized people. Gall slowly lowered his gaze from Tristan and held it on the ground for a moment. He brought it back up to the Paladin, giving the young man a sad smile. A moment later he was waving what was left of his people out the door, leaving the inn and the warning he had brought behind. 

[b][h3]Cowl[/h3][/b]
[b]Anvil Bridge[/b]
[hr]
Cowl studied Amicus for a moment, his face in thought. "A local hero. I can appreciate that, Elf." His thoughts raced back through time to when he became a hero of a town for simply leading a handful of guards to rout a group of highwaymen. There was a certain beauty to the simple acts a hero did in their lives. The saddest, most redundant part of a hero is that there ever had to be more than one hero in history. Selfless, brave acts done over and over for the same result every time.

Cowl brought his eyes to look on Sifa, the woman of many travels and stories. [b]"I would like a story as well. I think a story can teach something to everyone, whether the story is true or not."[/b]

[b][h3]Unknown[/h3][/b]
[b]Anvil[/b]
[hr]
From every entrance into Anvil came a squad of six men and women dressed in black leathers and metals. On their right breast was the insignia of an obsidian mountain peak with a purple background. They carried crossbows in their hands and shortswords on their hips. Their skinned was dark grey and they had silver hair. Their eyes all seemed to be black, but in the correct lighting appeared to be a midnight purple. 

Some of those squads met resistance, and fell, while some pushed past the Anvil guards and further into the town. The foreign soldiers usually would have torn such a town apart with ease, but a long battle on the plains had worn them.