<div align="center"><strong>Valdis</strong></div><br/>Damian's scowl deepened. His hands clenched in a deathgrip on the broom, knuckles turning white. He took a step towards the road as if to force a confrontation; and reconsidered, perhaps at the sight of the weapons that Valdis wore with easy familiarity. With a muttered curse, Damian threw the broom aside and stormed down the path to his house. He flung open the door to the wine shop and slammed it shut behind him.<br/><br/>A short walk brought Valdis to the inn. One of the oldest structures in the village, it had been built at a time when only amateur carpenters were available, and the craftsmanship showed. The front door was crooked, the windows differed in height, and the entire inn leaned a bit precariously to the left. Inside, the dark wood support beams were awry, the hallways not quite straight, and the floor creaked. An optimist would say the inn had character, while a pessimist would have any number of disparaging comments to choose from.<br/><br/>Valdis opened the door and went inside. It took his eyes a moment to adjust, for the windows were still covered by gauzy curtains. The common room was cool and dim. Nasir had been a sailor before he'd been an innkeeper, and the decor reflected his earlier profession. A nautical lantern, belaying pins, a section of sailcloth, a town of Compromise flag (a yellow hand clasped with a green hand upon a field of ocean blue), and lengths of rigging adorned the walls. A cutlass was mounted above the hearth, along with its companions- a collection of knives from towns across the kingdom.<br/><br/>Valdis became aware of a person standing at the bar, staring down into an empty cup as though lost in thought. Sophia was diminutive, nearly a full foot shorter than Valdis. In the time he'd been away the mayor had hardly seemed to age at all- a worry line or two, and a single strand of grey hair that she hid in her otherwise sandy-hued braid, and which Valdis's sharp eyes had picked out almost instantly. She was dressed as usual, leather jerkin over a shirt, trousers, leather boots.<br/><br/>Sorrow and grief were writ upon her face, emotions Valdis had never before seen her express. At that moment Sophia looked up. Sorrow became surprise, and then her expression slid into something more familiar, bright-eyed and optimistic. "Just who I was hoping to see," she said pleasantly. "Good morning, Valdis. How is your father?" Her smile seemed forced.