It’s a cold and rainy evening….

The streets of Combe are slick with rain water. It starts to pool in the imperfections of the hard-packed earth leading into the town center. Few residents are about. A lone man slowly makes his way into town. He heavily favors a walking staff for support. His body wracked with coughing fits. His hooded cloak is pulled tightly around him. His boots caked with mud. He’s soaked to the skin. Few acknowledge his presence as he trudges towards his goal… The Combe and Wattle Inn.

He staggers the last few feet towards the door, opens it and edges into the establishment. The Inn’s main room is full tonight. A large crowd is gathered around listening to a Bard practicing their art. The warmth of the fire beckons him in from the cold, rainy weather. All seem engrossed in the story until the point that the man enters.  A hush falls over the crowd and all eyes point in his direction.

He gazes up from under his hood, scans the room slowly. His body is briefly wracked by an intense coughing fit. As he finishes his sweep of the room, a look of distant recognition sets in. The worried, feverish expression he wore disappears slowly from his face. Within moments, the man crumbles to the ground unconscious, his staff skittering across the floor…

[A few days later]

Hallys awakens. His eyes quickly adjust to the light shining into his room. He finds himself lying in a bed. He wonders how he got here. Not only that, but he’s not sure where here is, yet? Somehow, this room seems familiar, but he can’t quite place it. He sits up and stretches, but soon doubles over in a fit of coughing. He starts to feel a soreness all over his body. His back still itches from the scabbing on his wounds. He raises his hand up and feels his face. The scar across his right eye is still not fully healed yet either.

Scanning the room, he notes his clothing on a chair next to the bed. As he gets up he realizes he is not fully clothed. He quickly grabs his attire and starts getting dressed.

He notes that his weapons are nowhere in sight.

Another coughing fit overtakes him, but he recovers just as quickly as it came on.

In the midst of getting dressed, the door opens. A young woman enters. She is slight of build and attractive. She appears to be only a few years his junior. In her hands, she carries a pitcher and a washing bowl. She blushes at the sight of Hallys dressing and averts her eyes. She states, “My pardon, I had no idea you had awoken yet. I’ll alert the mistress of this immediately.”

She places the bowl and pitcher on a side table and starts to leave the room.

Hallys looks at her with his piercing gaze and says, “Could you tell me where I am?”

She betrays a slight look of surprise as she answers, “Why, you’re at the Combe and Wattle Inn, just outside Bree.”

“And your name?”, he asks playfully. (somehow he just can’t turn off the charm.)

“Miranda” the girl says with a slight giggle.

He smiles back and thanks her. She heads out of the room, but before leaving, steals a quick glance over her shoulder at the half-clad young man.

Hallys quickly pulls on his shirt and fastens his belt. Without the heft of his swords at his side, he feels uncomfortable. In fact, aside from his clothing, none of his other belongings appear to be in the room. Taking one final look around, he heads to the door and is seized by another fit of coughing.

As he’s about to leave the room, the door bursts open.

“And WHERE do you think YOU are going?”, bellows a short, matronly looking woman. She states it with an air of authority that tells Hallys, this woman is in charge around here. As she shouts at Hallys, she starts poking him in the chest and herding him back towards the bed.

“You’ve been lying in bed unconscious and sick for three days. Obviously, you are in no condition yet to be up and about. Lay down, and let us make sure you are well. You’ve been banged up quite a bit it seems and I don’t want you falling apart because I didn’t take good enough care of you.” she says.

Thankful for her assistance, Hallys complies with the womans demands. He asks after his weapons and equipment. The woman tells him, “Never you mind about that. You concentrate on getting better. In due time, your belongings will be returned to you.”

Hallys asks, “May I know who to thank for their kindness to me?”

She looks at him and states, “I’m Lizbeth Honeymeade, the proprietor of the Combe and Wattle Inn. Rest easy young man. You are in good care!”

With that, she closes the curtains to the room, tucks Hallys back into bed, heads out the door and closes it behind her.

Hallys almost immediately starts to drift off to sleep. The last thing he thinks before sleep overtakes him is that he is finally safe.

The nightmare is over…