Kael pushed open the tavern door, and a wave of warm, smoky air rolled over him. The low hum of conversation filled the space, punctuated by the clatter of mugs and the occasional burst of laughter. Creaky wooden floors groaned underfoot as he stepped inside, glancing around the room. It was modest but inviting, with lanterns casting a golden glow that softened the rough edges of the timber walls. The smell of roasted meat mingled with the sharp tang of spilled ale, and his stomach rumbled despite himself.
Liora followed close behind, his sharp eyes flicking over the room with a practiced ease that gave Kael pause. It wasn't just a casual glance—it was precise, calculating, as though the halfling were silently mapping every exit, gauging every face, and cataloging potential threats in the blink of an eye. It made Kael wonder what kind of life had honed those instincts and whether he was ready to find out.
