Wizard With Daily Task Panel!

Tonight, the resting place of them is a quaint hotel in the heart of town. Its decor immediately strikes a familiar chord; reminiscent of the Maple Leaf Hotel we visited before. In fact, it seems that most hotels of this era share a similar aesthetic, blending functionality with understated elegance.

A hotel like this serves multiple purposes: a haven for travelers, a hub for meals, a secure place for storage, a consignment center, and even an entertainment venue. Those who manage such establishments often hold significant status within the local community. Apart from the nobility, innkeepers are among the wealthiest and most influential individuals in town.

As Leonard descended the creaking stairs and stepped outside into the chilly night, a light breeze brushed past me. The hotel was surrounded by a sturdy wooden fence, its entrance marked by a hanging wooden plaque swaying gently in the wind. Nearby, cow sheds and stables lined the side of the building, filling the air with the earthy scent of livestock. In the dim light, he could make out horses, their heads buried in feeding troughs, chewing the remnants of dry grass.

Further back lay an open area where horse-drawn carriages and flatbed carts stood in quiet disarray. Faint murmurs of conversation and the occasional puff of smoke drifted from the shadows. The hotel had attendants to guard the vehicles at night, but this service came at an additional cost, a small price to pay for peace of mind.

Behind it all loomed the stone structure of the hotel. It was a two-tiered building, with the drinking area set underground and the guest rooms accessible by a separate staircase. The dark facade of the stone walls appeared somber under the flickering glow of a few oil lamps. In contrast, the underground tavern radiated warmth and noise, its lively atmosphere spilling out through the stairwell.

The night air carried a damp chill that prompted me to pull my coat tighter as Leonard pushed open the heavy oak door. A mixture of tallow candles and the sour tang of sweat hit me instantly. Inside, the underground tavern was alive with activity, its warmth a stark contrast to the cold outside. It was the largest and most bustling town I'd visited so far, owing much of its prosperity to the nearby iron mine. According to Kenny, mining was grueling work, but the pay was decent. On their rare days off, miners would flock to the tavern to drink away their exhaustion.

The room was lit by hanging lanterns, casting golden pools of light on the stone walls. Wooden tables dotted the space, their surfaces scarred from years of use. Around them, chairs fashioned from tree stumps groaned under the weight of their occupants. The bar, a centerpiece of the tavern, boasted an impressive array of rums, ales, and beers, neatly lined on a wall of shelves.

Despite the late hour, the tavern was alive with revelry. A group of drunken men in one corner had stripped off their shirts, their hairy chests heaving as they bellowed out folk songs from their homeland. Across the room, a cluster of women in bold, revealing attire lounged in another corner. One of them caught the attention of a staggering drunk. Their conversation, heated at first, softened dramatically when he revealed a pouch of gold coins. Her demeanor changed instantly, and she draped herself over him, whispering into his ear with a practiced smile. The pair left the tavern together, her laughter trailing behind them.

As they passed by, Leonard caught the faintest snatch of their exchange.

"I've struck it rich!" the man exclaimed, his voice slurring.

"That's wonderful," she purred, clinging to his arm.

The heady aroma of cheap perfume lingered in the air, mingling with the other smells. he sneezed, overwhelmed by the mixture.

Finding a quiet corner, Leonard slid into an empty seat. The bartender, a wiry man with a towel slung over his shoulder, approached promptly to wipe down the table.

"What'll it be, sir?" he asked, his voice friendly but brisk.

"Wine," he replied, eager to try something other than beer for a change.

"We offer three options," he began. "The first is our house red, made from grapes grown in the local orchards, eighty copper coins per pitcher. Then there's the imported red wine from the northern vineyards at two silver coins per bottle. Lastly, we have a fine white wine from the prestigious Brandy family's distillery, priced at eight silver coins a bottle."

After a moment's thought, Leonard nodded. "I'll take a bottle of the house red and the imported red, along with a serving of barbecue."

The bartender smiled and scribbled my order. "That'll be three silver coins and thirty copper coins, sir."

Leonard casually tossed the coins into the tray held by the waiter, who deftly caught them without breaking stride. His sharp eyes flicked over the coins, mentally tallying the amount in mere seconds. Satisfied, he gave a slight bow and disappeared into the bustling tavern.

As a gust of cold wind swept through the room, the oak door creaked open, revealing a striking figure. A young girl, golden-haired and dressed in an opulent, fluffy princess gown, stepped inside with an air of confidence. Her outfit was extravagant, every detail speaking of wealth and status. She was flanked by two individuals: a tall, imposing man cloaked in shadow and a woman draped in a flowing white cloak over a lace dress of platinum threads.

The man's rugged face was partially hidden by his cloak, but a jagged scar near the corner of his eye gleamed faintly in the dim light. He radiated an air of danger, his movements deliberate and measured. The woman, on the other hand, exuded elegance. Her wavy golden hair spilled over her shoulders, and her faint smile revealed dimples that softened her refined demeanor.

The girl strode confidently to a corner table, one diagonally opposite Leonard, and motioned for the waiter. "Where's your menu? Bring it here," she called out impatiently, her voice clear and commanding.

The older woman glanced around the tavern with barely concealed disdain, pulling her cloak closer and swiping at the dust on the table with a lace handkerchief. The man in the cloak remained silent, his shadowed eyes scanning the room, pausing briefly on Leonard before shifting toward a group of rowdy drunkards singing loudly in the corner.

The waiter, clutching a wooden board etched with the tavern's menu, approached the girl. She leaned forward eagerly. "A bottle of your best brandy, cumin roast meat, roast rabbit, and creamed corn salad," she said with the enthusiasm of someone exploring a new world. Turning to her companions, she asked, "Uncle Damian, Sister Dolores, what about you?"

Dolores offered a polite smile, her dimples deepening. "I'll pass. he must watch my figure. A late-night meal would ruin my dress for the upcoming ball."

The man, Damian, shook his head slightly, remaining silent. His gaze once again swept the room, lingering momentarily on Leonard before continuing its measured observation.

The waiter returned to Leonard's table, balancing a tray with remarkable skill. On it sat a steaming plate of barbecue, a bottle of local red wine, and another of imported red wine. "Your order, sir," he said, placing everything neatly before him.

Leonard picked up his knife and fork, slicing into the meat. The aroma was enticing, though the first bite revealed it to be tougher and gamier than he had hoped. The wine, sour and slightly astringent, wasn't much better, but it was serviceable. He chewed thoughtfully, his focus drifting to the girl's table.

The golden-haired girl leaned closer to Dolores, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, though still loud enough for Leonard to catch. "Sister Dolores, is Bangor Harbor really as grand as they say in the capital?"

"Absolutely," Dolores replied with a knowing smile. "It's not as vast as the royal capital, but it's a hub of trade, an open port teeming with exotic goods and flavors from across the seas."

The girl's eyes lit up. "Exotic flavors? Do you mean foods I've never even dreamed of tasting?"

Dolores chuckled softly. "Indeed. Bangor Harbor is full of surprises. But remember, we're heading there for more than just delicacies. In half a year, the fleet will arrive to recruit wizard apprentices. Once aboard, it may be years before we return to the kingdom."

The girl's excitement dimmed slightly, her expression turning pensive. Leonard, who had been absently slicing his meat, slowed his movements. The words "wizard apprentices" and "fleet" caught his attention. Was this the same Bangor Harbor his teacher had mentioned? Was the fleet tied to the mystical academy where wizards were trained? If so, could this harbor be the gateway to a world beyond this continent?

His thoughts churned, weaving possibilities and questions. Could his teacher have brought him here with this fleet in mind? If Bangor Harbor was so far removed from the kingdom, what awaited him there?

As Leonard mulled over the implications, the tavern door slammed open with a thunderous bang. Heads turned as a disheveled man stumbled in, his clothes torn and his face pale with terror. He staggered down the stairs, barely managing to stay upright before collapsing onto the floor. His ragged breaths filled the sudden silence.

"There's a monster! A monster!" he cried, his voice hoarse and trembling.

The room erupted into chaos, patrons shouting questions and theories. The golden-haired girl clutched her cloak, her wide eyes darting between the man and her companions. Dolores frowned, her calm demeanor faltering for the first time. Damian rose slowly, his scarred face set in a grim expression.

Leonard tightened his grip on his knife, his appetite forgotten. Whatever the man had seen, he had to be ready. The air in the tavern shifted, the once-lively atmosphere replaced by a tense anticipation.