The inn's roof still held the chill of dawn when Strax settled on the edge, his arms resting on his knees, his gaze lost on the horizon where the sky was beginning to lighten very slowly. The city below still slept, enveloped in that peculiar silence that only exists before full dawn, when not even the most disciplined merchants had begun their routines, and the few sounds that escaped were too scattered to form any kind of rhythm. The air was clean up there, broken only by a light breeze that carried with it the distant scent of wood, damp stone, and the beginning of a new day that had not yet fully revealed itself.
Tiamat was already there when he arrived.
