Snippet #1920239

Traveling in the treacherous weather and the snow wasn't the smartest of moves, but since she had been almost all of the way to Azgrowth, Kiana hadn't wanted to stop. The last village she had stayed in had barely given her anything of interest to learn about. Knowledge was power - the power to know things about others and the power to sell the knowledge to those who needed it most. And Azgrowth had caught her attention with the stories of a wolf - or wolves - who, in uncharacteristic displays of violence, attacked humans. That hinted at something, and Kiana had an inkling that that something might be more: werewolves.

The snow fell in a light sprinkle, calmed from its previous storm. It fell over in a new layer over the ground as well as Kiana's clothes and the oiled cover over her lyre. She looked ahead through the darkness of the cloudy night and saw little specks of light spilling out from lamps and candles in the windows of some houses. She was nearly there. Kiana's tired jog received a new burst of energy and she began to run, eager to enter one of the town's pubs or inns and eager to exit the late winter chill.

Her running slowed again as she passed the open gate and the guards. It was early evening, and so most people seemed to have retired to their homes in order to eat supper. The streets were generally empty, much to Kiana's relief. She didn't feel like squeezing through large crowds at this point of the day. Spots of light illuminated the sides of the streets through a few houses' windows as Kiana made her way. The snow crunched underfoot. A breeze blew against her back and she heard a creak up ahead. She looked for the source and saw a large wooden sign hanging over a porch, both were part of a large building. Kiana smiled at the sight. It was definitely a pub. What else would have a sign with a giant, foaming tankard?

Kiana went up the steps and onto the porch. Through the closed doors, she heard voices over the comforting backdrop of clattering cutlery and a fire. Pulling back her hood, Kiana released long black hair and she brushed off the crusted ice from her clothes and instrument. Then, she pushed against the door and opened it, releasing a wave of warmth, chatter, and noise. The pub seemed quite full but Kiana entered anyways, glad to finally be out of the cold.

There were several glances, but most of the chatter continued unabated as Kiana slipped through the tables and people, searching for a free seat. First she would warm up a bit, perhaps with a nice hot bowl of stew. Then she would see if she could talk with some people. If she couldn't get anymore, she would play her music. She would probably find someone with the information she wanted then - or at least someone who knew someone who did. It didn't matter. As long as she had her music and the warmth. She was patient. Information would always come.