As morning came, and the adventurers stirred within their beds, the cloudless day warmed the town. Given the nature of Micah’s previous visions, and the micro-fractures in Neith’s tailbone, a rest at the Dull Axe was perfect for them to recuperate from the strange night. The innkeeper, an old elven man in his 60s was taking inventory out of a ledger at the front of the lobby, it wasn’t much, but it was just right for the town. A couple inn goers were making their way down the halls, leaving for day. 

It was roughly 9am by now, and town hadn’t exactly kicked up yet, but off to the distance, unlikely to be seen by most, someone could be seen sleepily but steadily walking to the treeline, someone with blonde hair, and a cotton shirt with long and flowing sleeves. In one hand, something that seems like a book from the view of the Dull Axe

[@baraquiel][@Eviledd1984][@Jerkchicken]