Like a hudred other inns it nestled on a main road of the small town of Shadowdale, just north of the great Elven forest of Cormanthor. The afternoon sun was lowering and the inn was filling up, locals and travels alike. Retired adventures who lived in the town and adventures, merchants and others who traveled the roads stood at the bar or sat at the tables. Few stayed in camps this close the the forest, where Drow activity was becoming a problem.

Servers, male and female hurried to take and bring the orders of the patrons. Humans, made the majority of patrans and a couple of Dwarves, Half Elves, and some Halflings.

Off, in one of the corner boths, almost totally concealed by the shawdows sits a man with his cloak's hood concealing any possible features of his face from what little light makes it to where he sits. He watches as people come and go. As the waiters and waitresses hurry around serving the patrons of the inn. His back is to the wall so he can see everything, careful to not be noticed. Almost as if he is waiting for something or someone. He goes totally unnoticed by all as if he wasn't even there. If someone were to notice, they wouldn't see much more than a shawdowy figure, or what appeared to be that of a person sitting in the shawdows. There also seems to be an erie aura around where he sits. As people who seem to linger in towards where he sits, seem to stop and then go somewhere else, as though something tells them not to wander any closer. Its is a feeling that is best descibed as crawling skin or spine chilling chills. A signal that they are not welcome and should go away. This person or thing, who or whatever sits in the corner, is clearly waiting for someone or something specifically and would rather not be disturbed.

2 hours have past and the figure in the corner is almost hidden from site. You really have to look closely to even notice anyone sitting there. people still avoid the corner booth, but now if a new comer enters, they would only figure it is because the corner is to dark.

Something had drawn him here out of the forest. Xuor is normally a loner traveling with a large grey wolf as his only companion. He is an elf with silver shoulder length hair and amber eyes wearing a hooded cloak of neutral gray cloth, a grey wide brimmed hat, a light grey shirt , and a dark grey jacket. He decides that the inn is a likely place to wait
Entering the inn with the wolf at his side, he looks around for an empty table.

Looking towards the door as it opens, he sees a man accompanied by a wolf enter the inn. Without moving, he locks eyes with wolf and notices he changes his demeaner a bit. He then locks eyes with the new comer, looking him over notices he is an elf. "Could this be the elf I've been waiting for?" he ponders to himself. He looks back to the wolf locking eyes once again and the wolf reverts back to his happy stance as if to say he is ok. "This is one of whom I await her this night" he says to himself. From the shadows, he motions for both the elf and his wolf companion to come to his table.

The wolf and Xuor are part of a trained team. In one sense, it could be said that Xuor had trained the wolf because it could respond to simple verbal commands and their equivalent hand signals. In another sense, it could be said that the wolf had trained Xuor to appreciate its reactions and instincts and responded to certain instances of its behavior. Something seemed to pass between the wolf and the person who now beckoned That there was no hostile reaction from the wolf was a good sign.

Taking note of everything in the room before moving, he walked as directly as possible to the table that held that person. Xuor wore no armor but he knew that the greatsword and composite longbow he carried probably gave away his line of work. With the wold at his side, he approached with quick sure strides as if he knew what he was expected.

As the elf and his wolf approach the dark corner booth where they were motioned to goto, the man sitting there light the candle sitting on the table. The candle does produce alot of light, but enough so that his presence is now known. His facial features are still mask from the hood of the cloak he wears, but one could now see more than just a figure. The cloak being worn looks old and greenish grey. The shirt sleaves that are visible look well worn and the brown color is faded. The hands of the person sitting there look rough. They looked as though, they too had seen happier times before becoming scarred and hardened from the outside elements.

Lorae slipped off Moon Dancer and gave him a pat on the rump, he would take himself off the stable, where she had paid the ostler's daughter to brush him down and feed him.

The others were coming, but behind her. She climbed the steps to the porch and stepped through the open doors. She made not a sound as she did. With the lowering evening sunlight behind her, it was as if she were haloed with light. Someone took notice of the dimmed light and turned from their drink and conversation, a tug on a sleeve and and nudge in the ribs and silence soon reigned.

All that was at first discernible was that the figure was female, very tall and slender, but as Lorae stepped further into the room the hush was from stupification, for she was a Elf.

Silver gold hair frame an eldritch face of such fine sculpture and beauty as to take the breath out of man and woman alike. Her fair skin was blemishless and molded over high cheek bones. Large yellow-gold eyes ringed in dark silver stared out over the crowd, eagle eyes. Eyes that seemed see into a person. or see through thtem.

She was clad in simple gray tunic and pants, embroidered in green, Her well turned legs were clad in knee high gray roughout boots with applique and pierced work. About her shoulders was a green and gray mottled cloak that seem shift its pattern as one looked at it.

At her side hung a long slender sword with an exquisitily wrought golden hilt, and with a large round green stone set in the pommel of a sculpted dragon's claw. The green crystal seemed to be glowing as the light from the door shown through it.

Lorae, unfazed by the looks and the whispering that had begun, crossed the floor and quickly climbed the stairs to her room.

As one elf was making his way to where the stranger sat, another came into the inn with such stunning beauty as to make the world stop, hearts as well. He looked in her direction, looking her over, this time careful not to lock eyes. He knew several things form looking at her. First, she could handle herself more than well enough. Second, he would be meeting with her later, of this he was certain and lastly, the reason for not locking eyes was that he senced something about her and didn't wish to reveal hiself to her just yet. He feels the two of them will have a coming with one another eventually that should prove interesting for all of those he knows will be involved in correcting what is wrong.

Brianna takes her own stallion Shadowbane into the stables near the tavern. She doesn't let anyone else care for him due to his uncertain nature. She carefuly removes his tack and sets to cleaning him up.

She uses her own brushes and currys him removing sweat, though there was hardly any from their ride, dirt, which there was plenty from his habit of splasing through puddles with more vigor than necessary, and anything else that marred the sleek black perfection of his gleaming hide.

She even indulges him with a long scratching session in those places her has difficulty reaching on himself.

Giving Shadowbbane a final rubdown with a rag she stands back to admire the magnificent stallion, then she steps up close and takes his forelock in her hands pulling his head down close to her. "Eat what is given to you and except for any rats and vermin keep your mouth off everything else." Brianna lets his forelock go. She then cleans up his tack oiling and cleaning every part and checking each strap and fastening. A horse-clans woman never neglets her steed or tack.

Gathering up her saddle bags and gear, she head off to the innn ready for a bath and drink and food though not particularily in that order.

Flame? where are you, Flame? I am off to the inn if you don't hurry there will be no beer for you". She heads out across the courtyard her long legs striding quickly.

Brianna entrance is an entrance. She swings the door/s open and calls out with a clear ringing voice. "Beer in a flagon, a bath, food and whatever is ready first I'll take.

Brianna fills the doorway, over six feet tall well proportion musclar and very much a woman and a warrior. She wears a fine mithril chain mail shirt greaves and vanbraces of golden-colored metal chaised and engraved twin swords hang on her back crosswise to each other and a medium size strongly recurved composity bow in in her hand. A long dagger is at her hip, and the hilt off another cam be seen in her boot that are high riding boots. She carried an ornate golden-helm under her arm with her saddlebags.

With bright inquisitive eyes she scans the room for anything or anyonhe she may find interesting.

Her long wavy black hair is braided back and tied up to keep it out of her way a white streak over her left temple. HEr eyes are golden colored her skin of which there is much showing is deeply tanned. Just as the door shuts and winged form of flashing red darts through from outslde and llands with a whirl on her left shoulder. The repitian like wings fold over shiny red scales and the long tail wraps around her neck. The diminutive dragonette snakes his head about to scan the room.

Again the door opens and yet again another young and beautiful women enters the door. The time the stranger in the corner locks eyes with the women and raises an eye-brow as the dragonette lands on her shoulder. He then motions for them to join him and the elf just as the elf is taking his seat across from him.

He then motions to the bar to have her drink plus 2 more delivered to his table.

Newcomers to the inn also stare at the young woman who announced herself as "bold and brass". Eyes follow Brianna as she strides over toward the shadowed corner, as others had avoided it she approached with no qualms. Here was a warrioress entirely sure of herself.

A serving girl hurries over with a pitcher of beer and 3 full tankards. "Your friend has already gone up to the room and has ordered a bath."

She hefts the tankards onto the table and then sets the pitcher down, "you want a bowl for him," she points to the dragonette, "like last night?"

As the young warrior takes her seat, the hooded man riefly stands to be a gentleman then returns to his seat.

"That you both for coming to my table." he says, still without removing his hood just as of yet.

Only now, with little light from the candle can some facial features be made out. The man is young clearly from the tone of his voice, but his face looks much older. He has a beard and mustache. His hand and face both bare scars from battles long past. From what can be told, he is very strong as well and there doesn't appear to be any fat anywhere on him. It can also be seen that he is wearing armour, as thou he expects something bad to soon. It too is also battle proven.

"We have many things to discuss about events that are happening around us" he starts out, "but that can wait until everyone has arrived. My name is James "Logan" Moore, you may call me Logan. I have traveled here from a far off place as the events that are going to unfold here will undoubtedly affect the land from where I come form if not stopped here first. Unlike you, I do not have a familar that travels with me. My bloodline is from an old and forgotten noble family which I am the last of. For now, I shall leave it at that, what of you two?" And with that, Logan grabs a tankard, leans back sips on his ale and listens intently as they tell him of themselves.

A dwarf walked up to the inn. He looked at the place and wasn’t impressed he saw many ways it could be improved. He thought to himself I doubt they will have dwarven ale will just have to drink the stuff that passes for ale here not much choice.

He was running a little behind he had expected to make the earlier but had run into a half staved boy who had tried to rob him on the road. He had spanked the boy of course didn’t even break a sweat when he realized the boy only wanted food he had given the boy some iron rations that would teach him to rob travelers. He wondered a little if the boy would even think about robbing another traveler after that.

He walked up to the door opened it and breathed in the smell that every inn in the world seems to have. He turned to the bar and ordered a pitcher of ale for himself then he looked for a table to sit at. He would eat later he figured always more important to drink then eat in his eyes if things got out of order who knows what would happen.

After taking his seat, he does not rise as the other does at female arrives at the table. He has given up that life in exchange for the one he now leads. He does provided the female with a respectful nod.

Xuor starts in a soft voice barely audible to the others with “I am Xuot … just a simple hunter…. a woodsman…. a taur'ohtar in the words of my people.” This is true although he leaves out that he sometimes hunts marauding giants or rampaging orcs and the word he uses also means ranger. “Draug here is my companion and partner and not a familiar.” He simile at the mention of the name since draug was his word for wolf. The naming was part of a private joke. Looking around he adds, “What is it that you believe will occur?”

A freshly healed cut is still visible on Xuor’s face. It has started fade but was clearly made by a blade. Those observant would notice that there are no loose items or uncovered pieces of metal. Every item on him was of superior quality. The outline of a signet ring beneath the gloves can be seen. The two quivers filled with arrows stood out. His habit of constantly taking in everything around also stood out.

He takes a sip of his drink before lowering so that the wolf could take a sip if it had a desire for a drink.