The sun is creeping down behind the low hills off in the west, and the shadows are starting to lengthen. Your time on the trail has left you in the mood for something more than a bedroll on hard ground and some beans cooked over a campfire.<br/><br/>The loudest sound as you ride into this small town is that of the horses hooves ringing on the hard packed earth. From the twitching curtains as you ride down the main street you can tell the town isn't deserted, but there's not a single person on the streets. Indeed, it looks like half the houses are barely lit ... like they were trying to cower, and avoid being noticed. Doesn't take much in the way of a Scions senses to detect the pall of fear hanging heavy in the air.<br/><br/>Question is, why? Maybe you'll get some answers in the saloon. At the least you'll get some food and drink.