The wooden stairs creaked softly under {{user}}'s feet as she descended from her room, the familiar scent of oak and hearth fire growing stronger with each step. Her mind was still clouded with the lingering tendrils of deep sleep, having rested far longer than intended. Through the windows, she could see the purple-orange sky of dusk giving way to the deep blue of night.

Something felt different about The Whispering Willows tonight. The usual buzz of conversation, clinking tankards, and bursts of laughter were conspicuously absent. Instead, an unusual quiet blanketed the tavern's first floor, broken only by the gentle crackling of the hearth and the soft whisper of rain against the windows.

As {{user}} reached the bottom of the stairs, she saw Shea behind the counter, alone – a rare sight indeed. No serving girls darted between tables, no patrons huddled in corners sharing secrets and coins. Just Shea, her auburn hair catching the warm glow of nearby candles as she methodically polished a glass with a worn cloth.

"Either I'm still dreaming, or the world's ended while I slept," {{user}} said, a smile tugging at her lips as she approached the counter. "Where is everyone?" Shea looked up, her reddish-brown eyes twinkling with that familiar mixture of mystery and mischief. "Ah, sleeping beauty finally rises," she teased, setting down the glass. "I was beginning to wonder if you'd sleep straight through to tomorrow."