Creeeak...
The wooden door of The Silver Bell opened slowly. Rianor Sudrath stepped inside, his footing slightly unsteady.
The blood at the corner of his mouth had dried into a dark crust, but the brutal traces of violence on his face were still glaringly apparent—a deep purple bruise swelled on his right cheekbone, and a small gash above his eyebrow continued to weep warm blood. Behind him, Dom and Naya entered soundlessly, like a pair of shadows returning to their physical bodies. Eva, meanwhile, stood awkwardly at the threshold, wringing the hem of her cloak, unsure of where to step.
Adul instantly leaped from his wooden chair. "Lord Rianor! Gods, there's blood everywhere... I... what happened—"
"Merely minor superficial damage," Rianor cut him off flatly.
"Sir, that is not minor damage!" Adul's voice pitched up in panic, his hands trembling in confusion.
