The long journey to the town of Ravengro is finally at an end; though it has unfolded like none of you had intended. Those who knew of the professor, and of his death felt a sudden emptiness that was only enhanced by the cool night air - signalling the fading days of summer. There was sadness . . an end of things.
Ravengro sits near Lake Lias in western Ustalav, in the county of Canterwall, the breadbasket of the confederacy. During the day if you walked through the fields and groves of this fertile land, you would see many a farmer, tradesman or merchant on your path, though none would be especially friendly. With the passing into twilight, suspicion bordered on resentment and one always had the feeling violence was a miss-spoken word away. For every light that glowed in a window, another was dark and shuttered against the night.
Finding a room for the night weighs heavily on your minds although you know you would be welcome at the Lorrimor residence. To make matters worse a light shower passes, leaving you cold, wet and miserable.
