"So, what now?" Rory finally rumbled, his voice gruff.

Lucian scanned the town in the fading light. "Let's find somewhere to rest and maybe ask some questions about odd things happening.”

With a shared nod of agreement, they sauntered towards the town gates. Lanterns cast a warm glow on the cobblestone streets, revealing a bustling marketplace and quaint, timber-framed buildings. The air hummed with the sounds of laughter, conversation, and the distant clinking of tankards.

As they entered the town square, they were met with curious stares. Their travel-worn clothes and weary expressions marked them as outsiders. A middle aged woman with bright eyes walked towards them, her smile disarming.

"Welcome travelers!" she chirped, her voice brimming with innocent curiosity. "Are you here for the market tomorrow? It's supposed to be grand!"

Lucian managed a tired smile. "Thank you, ma’am. We're just looking for a place to rest for the night though."

The woman pointed towards a brightly lit tavern across the square. "The Rusty Flagon! The food is great. I go there for lunch sometimes. They have the best meat pies!"

Kainith spoke up, “You were talking about a market? It sounds like a pretty big deal. What does the market sell?”

The woman looked at the bard. “Well, kind of everything. This is Riven if you haven't heard! We may not look like much but we are the trade hub in the north. We will have merchants from all over Kalish!” She started excitedly.

Kainith smiled at the woman. “Thank you! We will have to check it out.”

With a grateful nod towards the women, the party made their way towards the tavern. The creaking of the tavern door announced their arrival, momentarily silencing the boisterous crowd within the Rusty Flagon. A wave of warmth and the savory aroma of roasting meat washed over them, a stark contrast to the chill of the approaching night. 

Patrons huddled around sturdy wooden tables, their faces ruddy in the flickering lamplight, engaged in animated conversation punctuated by the clinking of tankards.

The barkeep, a burly man with a thick, salt-and-pepper beard that spoke of years spent dispensing ale and listening to tales, boomed a greeting. "Welcome, travelers! What can I get you?"

Lucian stepped forward. "We're looking for a place to rest for the night, and perhaps some food to mend a few bruises."

The barkeep now fully laying eyes on the party said, “Oh boy. You guys do need some rest and relaxation.” The barkeep started wiping the bar down. “Well if you have the coin I can get you some of the best meat pies you’ll ever eat and a few tankards of the strongest ale you can drink! I also have a couple of rooms upstairs still not taken.”

Rance pulls a pouch out of his pocket. “How much do you need?”

The barkeep smiled. “Well, you guys look like you guys really need the food and rest so you give me one gold piece and the rooms and food is covered. I’ll throw in all you can drink ale.” The barkeep pointed over at a booth along the wall. “That one looks open. I’ll bring your food and the first tankard over for you when it's all ready to go.”

With a shared look of relief, the party settled at a worn booth along the wall, away from the prying eyes and curious whispers. Rance flipped his dagger staring off into the distance. Rory started using a cloth to clean the edges of his axe and Kanith absentmindedly strummed his lute while they waited for food and ale.

"Alright," Lucian finally said, his voice low but resolute. "We'll rest tonight, eat some food, and in the morning, we figure out our next move."

A wave of agreement washed over the table. A few moments later the barkeep, carrying a platter with meat pies and ale swung by the table. “One for you and for you, ” he said as he laid the food in front of each member of the party. 

"Looks like we're back to square one," Kainith sighed, setting down his lute. "But at least we're alive. And who knows, maybe this town holds some answers. Travelers often carry stories, and sometimes, those stories are worth more than gold. Also maybe we should check out that market tomorrow.”

“Agreed.” Rance said. “I’ll eavesdrop in the market tomorrow to see what I can hear.”

As they delved into their meal, the sounds of the tavern slowly faded into the background. A bard in the corner launched into a lively ballad, his voice rising above the din. A group of hunters exchanged tales of their latest exploits, their laughter echoing through the room. For a moment, the party allowed themselves to be swept up in the tavern's warmth and camaraderie.

Later as the tavern started emptying the party decided to head up stairs to their rooms. Rory and Rance took one and Kainith and Lucian took the other. The weight of the day pressed down on the party and they all fell into a deep sleep.

As sleep overcame Lucian there was suddenly a whisper that tickled the back of his mind.

“Beware the Eye.” The voice grew louder.

“Beware the Eye.” This time at almost a scream.

“Beware the Eye.”

Lucian shot up with an aggravated shout.

“Lucian, are you okay?” Kainith asked worriedly.

“You didn't hear that?” Lucian asked.

“Hear what? You were asleep and then just screamed.”  Kainth, now confused, asked.

“Nevermind must have just been a nightmare.” Lucian said.

“Are you sure you don’t want to talk about it? Your dreams have been kind of important lately.” Kainith now smiled.

“Nah. Let’s get some sleep. We have a big day ahead of us tomorrow.” Lucian said.