Tomas Newl heard the word graveyard in a crowded dining room and missed the rest of the sentence.
He had been listening for it for nineteen days. It had almost been three weeks since he had set out, searching for a unique dungeon under the orders of his supperiors.
The dining room occupied the second floor of a trade house beside one of the region's busiest portal yards. Merchants ate beneath route boards while clerks announced delayed caravans from the stairs. Tomas had chosen a table near the center because travelers spoke more freely when no stranger appeared to be sitting alone to hear them.
Three tables away, an adventurer held up an empty coin pouch.
"Redbrook graveyard took the rest." The man said. "Next time I will accept the hospital and wait."
His companions laughed in the tired manner of people who had already heard the story.
Tomas set down his spoon.
