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The bard and the tired child went also upstairs to have some well deserved rest.

They haven't yet decided what they would do tomorrow, but a new sun would should new ideas.

It doesn't take too long before you are all asleep in one bead each on the upper floor of the inn. It doesn't take too long either before the dwarf, the old man and some others start snoring really loudly. It could also be said that it even doesn't take too long before, anonymously, some of the dwellers of such up mentioned upper floor start farting at different acoustics degrees, but that topic will not be discussed here and now...

No, what happened that night didn't have much to do with the flatulence and winds of all sort. Neither with sweet dreams, prophetic visions or scary nightmares.

No, what broke the night, awoke you all, and disturbed the relatively peaceful quietness you were enjoying was a terrifying agonizing scream in the night coming from the street...

Thus you all wake up at the hearing of such distressful sound and look around the darkness of the upper floor of the inn, where just a candle by the stairs barely illuminates the place...

What did they put in my beer? Baster couldn’t but question. She was no heavy drinker by half a mile, but she knew she could hold her liquor. And yet, a few tankards of the golden nectar were enough to blur her sight that night.

She was one of the last ones in the common bedroom. She needed to make extensive use of the chamber pot before even thinking about getting herself onto one of the beds. Once she did, getting rid of her armor and burying her body in the straw mattress, sleep didn’t take a lot of time to grasp her.

Dreams were pleasant. She had no body, just particles carried by a gentle breeze, drifting slowly towards the east, across the sea. Until an agonized scream pierced the quietness of the room.

She woke up just in time to ascertain the origin of the noise. Not the inn, the streets.

For god’s sake, go die some other place, she thought. One good reason to dislike towns. Too fucking loud, even during the night. She mumbled a curse and covered her head with her free arm. Her other arm was hanging to the floor, her hand around the hilt of her weapon, as she had conditioned herself to always do.

The leaf looks like a burning flame

He said to Elaria. I think it's one of the jokes nature makes. And ...

But Gonore send them to sleep. He fell in bed like a stone in water and before he could take notice of any dream he awoke in great strees.

¿What the hell was that scream?

Asked astonished.

And he got up, cautiuosly walked to the door and waited in doubt. Was he going to investigate that scream? Before this night he was terribly bored. Now this was something he was interested in.

It appeared the bard's music had indeed enchanted me to the point that it had gotten into my sleep. I was now sailing the seas in my old boat and a sweet music could be heard. It was not any type of music, but a particular one: that of a violin, in fact, a fiddle. The fiddle's song was attracting me as sailors are enchanted by mermaids' chant. I could not escape it. Eventually, I get close enough to the rare object to almost touch it with the tips of my fingers. But, as I'm reaching forward to get hold of it, it becomes alife and shoots its bow towards my chest, piercing my heart. Except that it's not my heart. Where just a few seconds  ago was my body, there's now and old man's body, with an arrow coming off his chest. And he's screaming in agony.

I inmediately wake up, shaken up by the man's shout that has somehow woven together with my dream.

- What the hell was that?- I exclaim.

I sit up straight and look around aiming to make out something in the deep darkness of the room. Until I realize that the sound is coming from the street. Then, I get up and walk a bit, avoiding making too much noise although most occupiers of the room must be awaken by now, towards the back of the room where I assume there must be a window. I see a dim beam of light, probably from a streetlamp, entering the room through a breach on the wall and I come closer, trying to figure out whether there's a window there.

After what for my was an amazingly pleasant evening, everyone ended up in the shared space full of beds. The beds were actually quite big and comfortable, much better that what I was expecting.

Thanks to the extra space it was easy to sleep with one of my weaponds next to me (yeah, everyone was nice and drunk, but one does not survive silent night in the woods if it's not always ware of the danger). 

The dreams came fast and easy as soon as I closed, eventhough I would not remember any of afterwards. The scream in the night woke me rapidly, and even if most of the people around me was confused and calling for an explanation, I did not. I was used to that sort of wake up call and I knew what to do. I stood up fast and ready, spear in hand, and walked to the window. I was laying against the wall while looking to the apparently empty streets, trying to spot anything unusual, while the rest sweared angrily at the night.

I was sleeping quietly when a scream woke up me.

- What's the hell? - I said while I took my axe and got up.

When I looked for the origin of the scream I saw go down the stairs some lights.

- Well, I'm wake up. I'll go down to look for the origin of the scream.

Then I started to go down the stairs.

The soiree was very nice, but the tired child finally started to sleep with the head above his arms, listening the stories and smiling. As soon as he put his head on the pillow, he closed the eyes and slept peacefully without dreams.

Is the scary scream that awake him. Sionnain inmediately wake up, taking a little dagger out his clothes and looking for Grimmel with his glance.

He relaxes the position to seeing Grimmel is well and the little boy gets close the bard. - What must we do? - Asks to his mentor, with the sweet voice yet drowsy and still whith the dagger in his hand.

Grimmel never had had any problem getting his rest. He slept like a man with no regrets, which he most probably was.

When his sleep was disturbed (like any other's in this inn) he looked at all the people in the room. When the dwarf left the place, the bard decided he would do the same. Someone is in trouble, a life can be at stake.

I shall go, too. I would rather have you safe, here. Not that he trusted their companions, but they seemed a lower risk than what could be happening outside. Also, anyone thinking the child was helpless might be surprised.

Would stay here for a minute while I take a look?

Only then, a longsword that Grimmel used to carry in his back, under the cloak, was seen. Under a blanket he also had something that may or may not be his fiddle.

You shall hear me whistle when it is safe.

- Ok. - Accepts the child, nods his head. - I'll wait here. - Says resolute. He doesn't want Grimmel to be worried.

Sionnain walks then to the window and he takes a look. There is also the nice woman of red hair, ready to defend herself, and the little boy stays beside her. - Have you seen something? - Inquires with curiosity. - Or someone?

Shit! snoring... he hated snorers in dorms. At least while he did not stay asleep and he began to cast the most horrible snoring ever heard. 

Unfortunately, he used to be the last one to fall asleep; he had never needed too hours of sleep, but over the years he needed even less. A good sign, when he started to be really old, he will need to sleep longer, and that will be the time to leave the roads and back to Utopia to spend the last years, with a blanket, next to a fireplace. 

He had not even fallen asleep when the cry was heard in the night. And, without a word, he went downstairs to see if he could help the unfortunate who had screamed.

Alarmed by the agonizing scream, most of the guests at the upper level of the Inn wake up and scramble to either look for its source through the windows or run down the stairs heading for the dark streets.

Some however, remain in their straw beds preparing themselves for action in case some further trouble disturbs what could otherwise be a pleasant night.

One thing is clear tough, no other sound but the gasps and grunts from an agonizing man is audible from outside...

The feeling of hilt of your big sword in your hand is comforting. Hidden below the thin blankets of the straw bed you await for the news of the situation from other guests.

Your head, visible to everyone, remains steady. Is an awareness defensive position. For someone who doesn't know you, it would seem as if you were asleep. As soon as the poor deceived fool would reach you however, you would jump on him like a wolf.

So you wait to see what is going on outside and inside the Inn. You are experienced enough to know that there are many screams in the night and that most of the time, they do not concern you at all.

There is a closed big window by the end of the aisle that the beds create in the open upper floor of the Inn. The shutter is closed and locked right now but you don't hesitate to open it right away. Who cares if someone is still asleep up here. How much light could you get through this window right now anyway.

So you quickly unlock the iron bolt that holds the shutter and push it away wide opening the window. The views are quite nice since it is oriented East towards the square in front of the Inn.

You three squeeze in the windowsill and quickly scan the streets for the source of the scream.

It doesn't take you long to locate it.

Right behind the Inn, just at the entrance to a narrow alley from the square, lays a cloaked body on top of a pool of his own blood. There is still life in this poor soul since you can see is still trying desperately to crawl forward towards the square. He is facing down, so you can't see his face, but it looks like an old man as his hair is short and grayed.

He is about to turn around and face the sky probably looking for his last breath, but just then some people comes out of the Inn and runs towards the body, blocking your line of sight.

You four have decided that the best way to figure out what is going on, is to confront reality face by face. So, quickly waking up from the straw beds and grabbing some clothes and weapons, for those of you who actually have weapons and the need to carry them everywhere you go, you face the stairs to the lower floor.

The main floor is now silent, quiet and clean. It seems the service finished they work thoroughly and all tables are clean and ready for tomorrow's breakfast already. There is no sign of any of the maids, the bartender or the innkeeper however, so you decide to move forward to the streets.

The main door is closed but only locked with a bolt, so it can be open easily from the inside but not from the outside.

Thus you quickly burst out the Inn and into the square in front of it and quickly scan the streets for the source of the scream.

It doesn't take you long to locate it.

Right behind the Inn, just at the entrance to a narrow alley from the square, lays a cloaked body on top of a pool of his own blood. There is still life in this poor soul since you can see is still trying desperately to crawl forward towards the square.

There is nothing to think about, to hesitate. You run to the man at once. He is facing down, so you can't see his face yet, but it looks like an old man as his hair is short and grayed.

Once you reach him, he is turning around to face the sky, probably looking for his last breath.

Then you can clearly see him.

He is indeed an old man. A stream of blood runs from his mouth. His face is a mixture of horror and sorrow. His clothes are quite decent, he must be some kind of wealthy local. Perhaps from noble origin or even entitled.

A dagger hilt can be seen at his flank, just below his left armpit...

I made a clear sign to the kid to keep it low and then pointed to the window, invinting him to join and see for himself.

There was actually not much to see. The victim, yes, but not a trace of the cause: no one around, nothing to indicate me what happened there and why. The woods were so much easier for me to read. I waited there, hoping to see something else, but the only thing that seems to be happening was the useless effort of the victim to survive. Admirable, but with wounds like that I wouldn't bet he could see a new day.

From nowhere a second figured appeared and blocked my, our, vision. And a third, and a full group of people. Taking in accunt the direction from where the came they were without doubt our roommates. 

- Shit. Why do they have to stand just there. - I whispered more to me than to the kid or the half-elf, but clear enough for them to hear it.

Should I go down as well, I was asking myself. I had no business down there, actually, and it seemed clear the "criminal" (if it was actually a criminal) had fleed. I won't get anything interesting and whatever happened did not seem to be a threath. And probably the bard would help me with my curiosity. 

I lean on the wall near the left part of the window, leaving enough space for the young lady and the kid, and look outside. When I see the source of the scream, just an old man as it seemed in my dreams, I feel a bit disappointed but I quickly scan the area in case I perceive something that can help figure out what happened. He most probably was assaulted.

- It appears the man came from that alley over there.- I murmure, just before the rest of the crew, so to speak, comes out the Inn and approaches the man, causing my ginger haired neighbour's annoyance. As for me, I remain there, although now my right hand is busy playing with a small dagger, that has materialized there without my even noticing. I keep staring at the dark alley, watching for any signs of the assailant. He must have run off that way.

As if having someone under the window trying to share his dead throes, or whatever those moans were, with the whole neighborhood wasn´t enough, every soul in the room had decided to hop out of their beds and star a night concert.

When it’s dark, senses sharpen, and the least of noises becomes audible. Baster was used to many of them. She had slept among her snoring comrades, she had let herself be lulled into the world of dreams by the sounds of the forest, she had even managed to fall sleep between a couple of pigs. Like the creaking of the wooden floorboards and the song of the crickets, they were all sounds she was used to, almost as part of the night as the darkness and the Moon and the stars. Laments of agony, shuffling feet, clanking of weapons and steps were not.

So she lifted her head to ascertain what everyone was doing, and sit on the mattress, rubbing the grit of her eyes.

Is that ending soon? she asked to the women and the kid looking through the window. I am trying to sleep.

Dalfgan didn't worry about anithing more than the stabbed man. It was obvious he was going to die and the only think of Dalfgan was avoid that.

With a smooth touch, the old man tried to stop the bleeding...