The common room was a grim, utilitarian space, built for endurance rather than comfort. Dark stone walls loomed, their uneven surfaces pocked with scars from age and wear. A massive hearth dominated one side, its iron grate blackened by the smoke of countless fires. A single long sofa and two chairs sat beside it, worn, worn but sturdy. Above them hung a battered pike, its edge sharp.

Heavy wooden tables stood in neat rows, their surfaces gouged and stained, the wood permanently darkened by years of use. The chairs were equally robust. They came in varying sizes and shapes to accommodate the diverse travellers who passed through. Some had wide backs, armrests, and leather padding; others were plain, meant for bodies that required little in the way of comfort — or more room for spikes, wings, and the like.

Two large tapestries adorned the walls. One depicted an abstract swirl of smoky figures, locked in some battle. The other showed a forest beneath a blood-red sky with gnarled and twisted trees. If one stared too long, the shadows between them seemed to shift. There were portraits, too. One of a wizard, or perhaps a tairan, clad in a uniform of unknown rank. The other of what was probably a female shaman. She was so far gone in her transformation that Yu could not guess her original race.

And then, there were the defences. Some subtle. Others blatant. Iron reinforcements braced the doors and windows, which had shutters on both the inside and outside. A loaded crossbow was mounted near the kitchen entrance. Another hung by the stairs, alongside two swords and what must have been a wizard’s staff.

By now, Yu had also noticed the crystals embedded high in the walls, just beneath the ceiling, near where the light orbs drifted. Their purpose was unclear, but he suspected they were tied to some sort of warding spell. He made a note to ask Tirran when the opportunity arose.

Pages: