03/08/998: Winchwell, the Silver Seal Tavern, in a dimly lit back room...
The sounds of a disturbance outside near the canal continue, audible through the single shuttered window of a private back room at the Silver Seal Tavern. Candles flicker unsteadily as a damp, chill breeze fingers its way in through the slats on the shutters.
single glass of wine sits unaccounted for in the center of the large wooden table beside an empty bottle.
|Unless the GM screwed up her math.|
There is a single knock, and the door opens.
The innkeeper, sweaty and bobbing, pokes his head in. He looks pale and fretful.
"Another for the ABC League meeting," he announces, and vanishes almost immediately, leaving the door ajar...