surprise explosions


Fischer’s Tavern
Carmichael
Western Archenland


Loc snarls, “I traded in my freedom out of some misplaced sense of concern. And while people can throw me in a mine and tell me ta avoid people and the like, they can’t tell me how ta feel!”

Cassandra may flinch briefly but it is barely noticeable. She stands in front of Loc and a chair with a hole in the back of it. Her voice is hard, “First of all, you will pay for that broken chair. Second of all, Who is telling you to avoid people? Third of all, I have about had it with you, Loc.”

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hot leaf juice


Fischer’s Tavern
Carmichael


Lanisen sits at a table with a bowl of porridge and a cup of strong tea. He looks like he’s not all the way awake just yet, and his hair is on the rumpled side of respectable.

Bjorn saunters into the tavern and hoists himself up on one of the stools, ordering a tankard of ale with seeming obliviousness to how this could be seen as a strange thing to do so early in the morning.

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