A little while after they finished discussing and eating, they relaxed at their table, listening to the bard play his music, which was very soothing to the ear, allowing some of their tension to flow away.
The warmth of dinner began to settle into their limbs. With full stomachs and just enough ale to unwind their nerves, the group gradually slipped into a quieter rhythm. The low murmur of the inn's common room blended with the flicker of lantern light, casting soft golden hues over weathered wood and stone.
Nova stretched back in his seat, the faint soreness from the day's work tugging at his shoulders. Kiros had gone quiet, his eyes half-lidded as he nursed a second mug, deep in thought. Sarn had already leaned back against the chair, arms crossed, occasionally nodding off. Seraphina, still seated beside Nova, looked a touch more relaxed than usual—though her hand rested close to the small dagger at her hip, as always.
