As you gaze upon the grand fireplace of the Dread Dragon Inn, your eyes are drawn to the impressive head of a peryton mounted above the hearth. The creature’s antlers stretch out on either side, casting shadows on the surrounding walls. You can see that its eyes are missing, adding an eerie quality to the already imposing presence of the beast’s head.
The fireplace itself is large and made of stone. The dwarven barmaid, Anrin, is staring into the fire, lost in thought, the flames flickering in her eyes.
Anrin, head bowed, stands before the grand fireplace. She doesn’t seem to notice your approach, and it’s several moments before she turns from the flames to look at you. Her face is shuttered, and her eyes are narrowed.
“I won’t take any more accusations out of you, you brute. You were trying to find answers and now two people are dead! There are truly dangerous people in this tavern. Go interrogate them, and leave me to my grief, why don’t you?!
Who could it be? Well, Thogg should be obvious enough, and not just because he’s a half-orc. If there’s one thing I’ve learned working here for so long, it’s that folks out of Troal Blesh, like Thogg, are trouble-makers. Bar fights, vandalism, harassing the bards, you name it. That’s not even mentioning the places I’ve found food and drink spilled when a crowd of them has come through.
Then again…”
Anrin glances around the tavern, brow furrowed. She takes a step towards the fire, motioning you to move in closer.
“Maybe I shouldn’t say anything… But someone has to, right? I had warned Auberon about inviting Zyn to the festivities today. I know they know each other from way back. But everyone knows, even if they won’t talk about it, that Zyn is a member of the assassin’s guild. Who could do something like that, take an innocent life for money? I heard Auberon mention they’re colorblind, like most dark elves. Do you think being unable to see color, to be missing out on those little joys of life, led them down that dark path?”
She trails off, seemingly forgetting you’re there, and turns back to the fire. You leave her to her quiet contemplation.
