Mist's hollow was a bright enough town for laying in a valley surrounded by misty hills and an ancient forest. The townsfolk were withdrawn but friendly towards Dawn and a myriad of lights hung all over the town banishing the gloom of the mist as well as serving as a beacon for any woodsmen returning home late. With the mist no longer obscuring her view Dawn had a good idea of the massive shadow of that ancient wood looming over the town. The trees must be just as big as the ones of the Aviari village, if not bigger. The trees and hill shrouded a good part of the night sky, but the moon was uncomfortably bright even with all the lanterns around her.<br/><br/>The tavern was a reflection of the town. A concentration of it's populace. The combination of stone and wooden pillars created a homely atmosphere. An ancient design of housing made beautiful by the absolutely stunning wood carvings. Knots, spirals and stylized animals decorated nearly every wood corner, table foot or chair back support. Large handwoven tapestries hid the ugly stone of the walls. One of the larger one displayed a familiar scene to Dawn. Two strange groups of various races tossing magic and weaponry at a dark crowned figure that knelt broken and beaten at a woman's feet, Dawn could even pick out the figure that was supposed to be her. Muse was missing, but then again she hadn't been there for the final battle. A large hearth at the center of the room held a large fire at bay. Any chill lingering in Dawn's bones was quickly banished by the heat. Three men were playing a merry tune to lift the spirits of the people sitting in a half-circle around them. There was conversation and plenty of drink but less noise than Dawn was used to. The people of New Vale were a boisterous lot compared to the townsfolk here who seemed content to chat and relax rather than feast to celebrate the end of the workday. Or maybe Dawn just had that effect on her fellow townsfolk.<br/><br/>The bar was tended by an older, stocky woman and a shrouded figure that stood stooped over as it carefully cleaned glasses. The woman waved Dawn over, giving her hooded companion to task to look after the new arrival. "Gort, give the young girl there a drink. I'm doing a round." The figure looked over Dawn, and now she could see the claws poking through it's gloves. The wasted flesh barely visible in the cracks between it's clothes. The voice that sounded like it owner was gargling grit was the last piece Dawn needed to finish the puzzle. A ramen, perhaps a slave. The people of New Vale would've burned him alive on a pyre. "What'll be, sistah?" He smirked under his hood, or perhaps he simply tried to smile, it was hard to tell due to the ramen's lack of lips.<br/><br/>While the ramen tended to Dawn, the barwoman waded through the bar. Around twenty people sat clustered around the musicians, who had switched to a more morose and somber piece. A good thirty more sat in groups of three and four. Mostly talking, some enjoying food. A few sat alone in silence, clutching their drinks like it was the last thing keeping them out of their coffin. A seven-year old girl tended to the fire. Quiet and wearing ragged clothes, she had sharp-tipped ears that suggested she wasn't wholly human. A few more, wholly human, children chased each other while their expectant mother tried to catch them only to be hampered by her pregnant stomach. It was a quite lively scene.<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>