…
[i]
In the wee hours of the night the storm intensified. Peals of thunder shook the Inn and rain lashed the windows. The old inn stood pat against the tempest, though the walls and rafters protested against the wind with thumps, creaks, and groans.  

Eventually, the stormy night passed into a leaden gray dawn.[/i] 

…

The halls of the inn were dim and the empty chairs of the common room stood in drear disarray in the illumination of early morning light filtering through the grimy windows.  

A number of locks and bolts snicked and clicked before the door to the innkeeper’s quarters creaked open. The man emerged looking less than dapper. Trudging over to the main door, he reached for the security bar out of habit before pausing. The wooden bar was slid back and the door was slightly ajar. Sucking his teeth in annoyance, the innkeeper opened the door fully and stepped out into the chill air of morning. A thin fog clung to the sodden ground and no townspeople stirred within view. There were many rain-filled footprints in the muddy street, but no sign of whatever patron had left the inn’s door open.  

The innkeeper closed the door, leaving it unlatched for any early patrons. Thinking no more on the matter, he went about making the common room ready for the guests; sweeping ash from hearths and rebuilding banked fires. 

By the time lodgers started to stir, a deep pot of porridge was bubbling over the cookfire. 

The housekeeper who cleaned the rooms had not yet arrived, so no staff from the inn had yet ventured upstairs to the hall of rooms. A guest would likely be the first to happen across the scene. While the rest of the doors were closed and locked, the door to room 204 was wide open. Inside were not-so-subtle signs of a struggle. The washbasin and pitcher were both upended on damp floorboards. A chair was overturned and bedsheets were strewn on the floor, along with a couple of tawny feathers. The Aerial woman’s satchel sat open in one corner. Of Miiya, herself, there was no sign.