Darkening skies above what was once the legendary fortress of Camelot seemed to mock every inhabitants. Laughing at their powerlessness against Lancelot's cruelty while drowning their prayers for their king's return in their heavenly storms.

But rain only brought to their knees those who'd refused to fight. Pulling your hood down your nose, you slithered like an eel amidst the flooding streets. Stopping before the town's inn, entering without a sound. You only pulled back your hood when a familiar grip pulled you aside, clear eyes and a dark beard, new on him, entering your line of sight.

"You better not have been followed. I'm not risking my entire business for your pretty eyes."