[center][b]~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~[/b][/center] The afternoon hours were oppressive. Summer had cast spring aside and it had done so with a vengeance. The sun began its descent just after high noon as it had always done but still the temperature had risen to an unreasonable high for an early summer day. Combining the temperature with the humidity in the air that was so thick it hurt to breathe made for a deadly combination if one was not careful. Even the grass hung low with exhaustion as the sun beat down on every blade that silently wept for the humidity to coalesce into the much desired precipitation that had not blessed the land in a few weeks. Even the animals were struggling to cope with the heat. The prey of the midlands struggled to rest easy in what little shade they could find, even though a predator was nigh to be seen. Those that could be found were seen lazing around the grassy plains or lapping up water as if the rivers would soon run dry. Perhaps there had been some sort of unspoken truce for such an occurrence when the weather was the dominating factor controlling the lives of every beings across land. What any of them would do for a nice ocean breeze, unfortunately an ocean could not be seen for leagues in any direction. Xander had learned early on, that if he was going to travel along the main road across the midlands north of his hometown of Pyre, it was best to do so in the shade when at all possible. On this particular day, before the sun had reached its peak the young man had waded across the Cherafir River to exploit the shade of the Glandrather Forest. Yes it was dangerous, that much was well known to those of the area. But it would not matter compared to the potentially slow death of heat exhaustion. The shade provided by the forest’s tall and ancient trees provided a level of protection far outweighed the potential risk. More importantly, Xander had made great time. The comfort from the penetrating rays of the sun that the shadows of the trees had provided allowed him to move swiftly along the river’s banks, whereas others had to approach the day’s travels in a more reserved manner. The young man had reached the first checkpoint in his journey before he had previously thought possible. It would seem determination and a little planning would go a long way on this journey. Xander had reached the Thirsty Lute well before the evening had begun to set, as the establishment was still quiet. The fire had burned low in the hearth. The tables were clean. The common room was quiet. The growing scent of roasting stew and baking bread hung heavily in the air. The barkeep spent more time in the kitchen then behind the bar, lackadaisical ensuring that the preparations for decent night had been made. Xander was not sure what to expect, but he learned quickly and would certainly pick up on the common comings and goings of the local establishment as time had carried on. [center][b]~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~[/b][/center] Soon evening had set in. The Thirsty Lute was full of life. Although the inn was not overcome by patrons it appeared densely packed. The plethora of tables that had once been clean were now slathered in crumbs soaked with spilled ale. The floor decorated with the footprints of muddy boots that had long since moved on. Chairs were askew and people moved among the common room sharing in the fine atmosphere. A newly feed fire blazed in the hearth, illuminating the room far better than the menagerie of table lamps and sconces positioned throughout. Xander found a suitable if slightly uncomfortable wooden chair near the hearth. There were six chairs all together, each couple split by a smaller table more suitable for decoration than for eating. It allowed him to keep his back to the wall and a grand view of the door, even if it were obscured by the growing crowd. He was not yet a teenager but no one had questioned his choice of beverage, a mug of Midlands Ale brought down from the capital, and made the Thirsty Lute’s own by adding a spoonful of sugar and a crush bean of vanilla. It was considered the inn’s delicacy, but the boy nursed it with caution nonetheless. He had been lucky to arrive early. He had his pick of the beds upon arrival save for a few that were on reserve. He found a small room on the second floor with nothing more than a bed and a small end table. But it had a window that opened and a door that locked. Perhaps he was being over cautious, It was not often that news spread from the central regions of the Midlands that the darkness meandered about unchecked. Xander felt he had to maintain a certain level of control over his situation as he would not be able to control those around him. He was on a mission, and the first stop was this inn. [b]“Another mug kid,”[/b] the Innkeeper inquired just before Xander had tried to wave him off. [b]“We don’t get a lot of young’ns here, best mind yourself on these roads. Not entirely safe by ‘urself.”[/b] Xander took the opportunity to peruse the room. He used the innkeeps position to camoflauge his blatantly obvious investigation. A few more men had entered the place. A number of shorter fellows in the corner had started off on a wonderful game of the drink. A few at the group table in the center had become boisterous taking up cards and offering slanderous jests in their attempts to gain an upper hand. [b]“Who’s that fellow over there,”[/b] Xander asked the Innkeeper, motioning to a corner table with a tip of his head. [b]“Not too sure about that one there. Came in with the rest of the crowd. Not a regular though…”[/b] The innkeep said before turning away from the young man. [b]“Yggdrasil be kind to you boy, he always keeps the little ones.”[/b] [b]“Until they actually need ‘em,”[/b] Xander replied thinking of the sister that the Innkeeper could not possibly know. He turned his head to eye the stranger in the corner more directly. He examined his garb, trying to ascertain any level of threat but could obtain nothing of any use. A normal individual by all accounts. He swiftly shifted away. Did he see Xander staring? He couldn’t help but contemplate the implications of a perceived interest. Was he being nosey, paranoid, overcompensating for his lack of understanding or presence? Initiating the conversation was half the battle. But with so many people it was a battle that could go very wrong very quickly.