As Krystal burst inside, she found the patrons mostly as they had been, only far more silent and reflective.  It really didn't resemble the rabble that it usually did.  And Murphy had tears in his eyes as he saw Krystal.  He ran over to her, as much as his older legs could take him, and he gripped her hard by her shoulders.  "Is my daughter okay?  Please tell me my Susan is okay!" he said, practically crying.  The rest of the people about the tavern looked to be shamed with the knowledge a simple barmaid had gone off to do something they could've done easily and actually accomplished it.  After all, if the locals could handle their own troubles, why the hell would there be any need for adventurers or mercenaries?