Barden stood by the only window in his room, it was tall but not much wider than him. The innkeeper, Lazarus, had not lied about the view from his room, the ranger had a good view of most of the clearing, at least what was in front of the inn. He had been watching for the last while as a group of newcomers emerged from the tree-line into the clearing, much like himself. It was strange, but Barden passed it off as a plan of the Drakenwald, having grown to learn that this place was if anything, unpredictable. Turning, taking the time to examine his room (after some much needed rest), Barden could not help but notice that it was more spacious than the exterior of the building would give away. It was by no means large but rather a moderate size. As the ranger was on the top floor and in one of the corner rooms of the inn, the ceiling got narrower as you followed it up until it met at a point. Wooden beams, painted a dark brown ran along the length and breadth at the widest point of the ceiling. Barden could only imagine that the rooms on the other two floors would at least seem a lot larger than this one due to the cube like shape as compared to the prism type ceiling in his room.

The bed frame was made of a dark oak and was beautifully crafted. Decorative carvings gave the bed an almost Elvish appearance and Barden could only wonder whether this was a personal choice of the innkeeper Lazarus or just what had been at hand for furnishing the room. The sheets and covers on the bed had been prepared beautifully when Barden had first entered the room, but were now a bunched mess. The ranger sighed and remade the bed, nowhere near as perfectly as it had been when he arrived, but it would suffice. His bag, bow and sword were all propped by the far side of the bedside table and his torn overcoat was strewn over the bed. Barden wondered about inquiring on getting this repaired, but knew enough had already been done for him with free refuge, what else could he possibly ask for?

Clothed in everything except the coat, Barden tugged at his Jerkin, making sure that it wasn't awkwardly worn over the fine linen shirt he had underneath. [i]I suppose I should introduce myself to the others...[/i] he thought to himself as he exited his room and made his way across the hallway and down the stairs.

Upon reaching the ground floor, the ranger already noticed a few new faces, and the same faces that had been there when he had first arrived. He raised an eyebrow as he looked around what could only be described as the lobby of the inn, he wondered just how many rooms this place had. Leaving the inn through the same door he had entered, he found himself still getting used to the feeling of sunlight off his skin, especially after a year of being a "prisoner" of the forest. He spotted the new group of wanderers that he had seen from his bedroom window and cautiously but surely approached them.

His clothing and boots still as wet and dirty as they had been when he arrived, Barden imagined that he must have looked a mess. However, appearance was not of much importance to him. He ran a cupped palm along his chin, fingering at his short beard, awaiting someone to strike conversation.