The Inn was a thriving, bustling place as the sun began its lonely march into oblivion, heralding the night that would come until once more rising triumphantly into the sky.  Whores, barmaids, soldiers, drunkards all inhabited the inn and made use of the vast storehouses of ale brewed as quickly as could be had daily, creating quite a racket as chairs moved across the thick wooden planks making up the floor, boots moved across the same floor, tankards of ale clanked against tables, and the general din of people talking and regaling added to a rolling cascade of sound as all entered.<br/><br/>For Ada, the place seemed fairly normal, until the entire place seemed to fall silent as someone yelled, "Loyalist bastard!" and a man drew his sword, stabbing it into the chest of another man before he could react.  Instantly, more swords were drawn, and the man was disarmed and dragged fighting from the bar, to be held outside whilst waiting for the sheriff.  Ada is too far away from Ausk to have it overheard, but a man leans over to whisper, "Too common these days, the fights.  Ever since this nonsense with the king's passing, been this way."<br/><br/>The speaker is an older gentleman, who regards Ada and his bow with an eye like he's seen a warrior or two, "Seems to me you've just returned, have ye not?  Bad times you've returned to, friend.  War's coming, and it'll be a time before we're given a respite again."<br/><br/>The old man returned to his ale and telling a story to a couple of others of a battle against one of the desert tribes.  His voice becomes lost in the din of people enjoying their night as the place picked back up.  On the street, the man who'd stabbed the other had his hands tied behind his back, the body of the slain man at his feet as he was under guard until the sheriff arrived.  On a wagon driven by a single horse, the sheriff was a stocky man with black hair and a thick, heavy beard.<br/><br/>The man talked with the guards and sighed, before happening to glance up at Telidar before waving him over, "Oi, you there.  Come here."<br/><br/>Should Telidar and his dire wolf mount approach, he said, "Normally I ain't one to speak ill of a man's mount, but ye can't have that critter running around here like that.  I need ye to follow me after I get this body on the cart."<br/><br/>He then picked up the body with quite a bit of strength and threw it into his cart, before forcing the killer to climb onto the cart beside him while he took the reigns.  He then began to lead Telidar and his dire wolf towards the constabulary at the far end of town, which was much larger than before and boasted a small stable in the rear.  At the stable, a stable boy was sweeping out a stall and putting in fresh hay when he looked up and saw the sheriff leading a man atop a dire wolf.  His eyes looked to nearly pop out of his head.<br/><br/>"BOY!" the sheriff called, grabbing the youth's attention, "Finish that stall and give it to our friend here."  The boy nodded, hurrying to finish and then holding the door open for the wolf, though more apt to say hiding behind it than holding it open as a courtesy.