Kerrick rides through the open, unguarded gate, the pennant on his spear hanging limp in the still morning air. The street before him is nearly deserted, although he catches a few furtive movements from shuttered windows and shadowed laneways out of the corner of his eye. He shatters the silence with his call, "Hello, the town!" but the sound is immediately swallowed by the mist. On his left, he passes a building in a poor state of repair, its windows and doors boarded over, the roof in sorry shape from the spring rains. Passing two more buildings on opposites sides of the street, a weaver and a tailor by the look of their signs, he sees another building in poor shape on the corner on his right. This one, at least, still appears to be lived in, but the roof and porch are sagging badly.
The rest of the party moves through the open gate, Miska in the lead. After the cleric stops and calls out, you hear the muted sound of booted feet to your left, then a gravelly voice, "...and where might you be travellers from?"
You turn, and from a secondary palisade to the north you see a man walking towards you, buckling his swordbelt as he approaches. Finishing, he stops, placing his hands on his hips. The man is middle-aged, though clearly muscular, with close-cropped salt-and-pepper hair. He wears a leather doublet, and on his left arm is a well-used round metal shield. Two other figures stand in the gate behind him, but their features are hidden under voluminous, dark-blue cloaks, though they clearly wear swords, and one has a spear, the other a loaded crossbow.
Kerrick hears the exchange, but cannot see who his companions are speaking with, his view blocked by the buildings on the main street and a tree close to the rest of the party.
