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The common room seemed to ripple with unease as the adventurers revealed themselves one by one. Netzir’s crystal chessboard drew wary stares from a few locals—glassy-eyed, their charms glinting in the firelight as they shrank from the strange display.

The innkeeper only snorted, unimpressed. [color=#ffcc00]“If you’re playing with yourself, at least don’t clutter my bar with shards.”[/color]

Reed, however, leaned his elbows on the counter and gave a warm chuckle. [color=#66ff66]“Pure magical energy, is it? Well, if your crystals can light a song in the heart the way coin fills a purse, then perhaps they’ll buy me a tune yet.”[/color] His grin lingered, amused but not dismissive.

Miiya’s loud, good-natured welcome to the wide-eyed Juniper drew a few sidelong looks—sharp, unfriendly ones from locals who preferred silence. But Juniper’s tail swished happily as she returned the greeting. [color=#b32d00]“I am with the Guild, yes! And… yes, it’s a contract. Missing people, all over. That’s what I’ve come to help with.”[/color] Her green eyes gleamed, grateful to not be standing alone in the hush.

She blinked at Miiya’s whispered comment about Netzir and stifled a giggle behind her spoon. [color=#b32d00]“I… I don’t know. But thank you for the warning.”[/color]

When Marrion’s echoing voice carried across the room, several of the coin-wearers visibly stiffened. Their dreary eyes fixed on her for a heartbeat too long before sliding away. The innkeeper froze mid-polish at the odd request, blinking once. [color=#ffcc00]“Brains? No. Stew or bread. That’s it.”[/color] His tone was flat, almost scolding, but he shoved a bowl forward all the same.

Reed tilted his head toward her with a smile. [color=#66ff66]“Now there’s a palate unafraid of storms. Or of kitchens.”[/color]

Shiki’s clumsy rise from his stool drew a ripple of chuckles from a nearby table, though they died quickly when he named the Guild. The young adventurer brightened at once. [color=#b32d00]“Oh! Another! I knew I couldn’t be the only one.”[/color] She clasped his offered hand eagerly, though the contact left her with a streak of spilled ale across her gauntlet.

The innkeeper gave a dreary snort. [color=#ffcc00]“Guild sends green pups and drunkards. A wonder the missing folk aren’t doubled by now.”[/color]

Juniper’s ears drooped at that, but she held her spoon firm. Reed only smiled, shaking a few drops from his cloak as he leaned forward on his stool.

[color=#66ff66]“Well… at least someone’s looking.”[/color] His voice was warm, but it carried. [color=#66ff66]“It’s always a sad day when a person doesn’t come back home.”[/color]

The fire popped, and in that pause his smile softened, shaded with memory.

[color=#66ff66]“I’ve wandered through Arborhaven more times than I can count,”[/color] he went on, eyes drifting to the posters nailed by the hearth. [color=#66ff66]“Faces become familiar when you ramble as long as I have. Some of those I knew are hanging on that wall now, charcoal smudges where laughter used to be.”[/color]

He tapped a finger lightly against the bar, shaking his head. [color=#66ff66]“What troubles me isn’t the storm, nor the forest, nor even the shadows. It’s how little folk here seem to care. Forgetting’s too easy. And that’s the real danger—when a person can vanish, and the world carries on as though they’d never lived at all.”[/color]

A few of the coin-wearers hunched further over their cups, avoiding his gaze. One muttered something indistinct and drained his mug. The storm pressed against the shutters again, thunder growling low like a beast pacing outside.