It's a quarter of an hour until three in the afternoon when Gilly, Eltrezar, Maloria, Luban, and Ora pull their mounts in front of the Inn of the Welcome Wench, the younger wizard Spugnoir following behind with a wagon laden down with the unconscious body of a dwarf wounded in battle and nearly scissored in half by an enormous crayfish earlier that very day. The small cache of weapons Luban threw in with the dwarf is a paltry comparison to the armory's worth they had hoped to be riding back with.
Despite the unseasonably warm temperatures, the air is muggy and humid, and the sky is overcast. The light rain that falls, muddying up the roads running through the small village of Hommlet, does little to cool the adventurers who are sweltering inside their armor sets. The jostling ride back to town atop the half-orc's horse has done his wounded body no favors, and the waning thief struggles to remain mounted atop his horse, pale of face and losing a great deal of the remaining little left of his life down his horse's now blood-smeared flank.
The inn's stableboy and a groom trot out ready to take the reins of the animals off the group's hands, but they pause and hesitate at seeing Thurig's bloodied form sprawled out in back of the wagon and the wobbling Luban just ahead of him.
