The Western Gate of Neverwinter looms ahead like something out of a fairy tale – walls of polished white stone so bright they almost glow in the afternoon sun, carved with golden eagle statues. Even from a hundred yards away, you can feel the buzz – music floating on the breeze, laughter carrying over the crowds, and the warm smell of food and flowers mixing together.
"Now this is how a city should be," Bayron says, pulling the cart to a gentle stop just outside the gatehouse. "Strongest defenses you'll ever see, but nobody acts like they're waiting for trouble. Every week feels like a celebration here – they say the king believes happy people make strong people."
As they roll closer, more details pop out everywhere: guards in silver armor stand at the gate, but they're smiling and joking with travelers instead of scowling. The cobblestones under the cart wheels are so smooth you'd think they were polished by hand – and they catch the light like little mirrors. Street performers line both sides of the road in waves – jugglers tossing flaming torches that make kids squeal with delight, acrobats flipping over people's heads like it's nothing, painters sitting on wooden stools turning strangers into works of art, and musicians filling every corner with tunes that make your feet want to tap.
"Neverwinter," Hythesion breathes out, his eyes wide as he takes it all in. "–never failed to amuse me."
"Been hauling goods here for twenty years, and it still gives me goosebumps," Bayron says, patting his favorite horse on the neck. "Now listen – there's a caravan lot just past the gate where I can park up safe. But I'm not letting anyone near my cart or my horses – these boys are family, and I don't trust strangers with my cargo. You three go on in, find somewhere to sleep for the night. We'll take it slow tomorrow, make sure everyone's rested up."
They climb down from the cart, stretching out muscles that've gone stiff from hours of jostling. The second they step through the gate, the city wraps around them like a warm hug – the air's thick with the scent of fresh bread from a nearby bakery, honey-glazed meats from street stalls, and sweet roses growing in window boxes. Kids dash between legs with colorful ribbons tied to their wrists, playing a game where they try to tag each other without stepping on the cobblestones' cracks. Merchants call out their deals in voices that sound more like they're singing than selling.
Geth's head whips around the second he spots a raised wooden stage in the central square, where a crowd's already gathered in a tight circle. "Look at that!" he practically shouts, his scaled face lighting up like a kid's on festival day. "A talent show! Please, Hythesion – can we just stay a little bit? I've never seen anything like this back home – we only ever had storytelling circles around the fire."
Hythesion laughs, feeling the tightness in his shoulders he didn't even know he was carrying start to loosen up. "Alright, alright – but don't get lost! Meet us at the Mead and Ale's Inn when you're done. It's right in the center – you can't miss it. We need to get settled and grab some real food before we crash for the night."
Geth's already halfway to the crowd before Hythesion finishes talking, weaving through people with a grin so wide it looks like it might split his face. Akmenos shakes his head with a smile: "Guess he's not wasting any time."
"Come on," Hythesion says, turning toward the heart of the city. "Let's find that inn Osmedious recommended."
Maitara looks up at the building as they approach – three stories of warm wooden beams and red tile roof, with strings of glowing paper lanterns crisscrossing above the door like stars fallen to earth. The sign swings gently in the breeze, painted with a frothing mug and the words "Mead & Ale's Inn" in curly gold letters.
"Is this really the place?" she asks, wrinkling her nose a little. "Sounds like it's full of drunks."
Akmenos claps a hand on her shoulder, his eyes already lighting up at the thought of a cold drink. "Hey now – 'ale' is right there in the name! You know what that means? Good beer. Probably good food too. Hehehe! "
They push through the heavy wooden door and hit a wall of noise – laughter and conversation mixing with the strum of a lute, the clink of tankards, and the sizzle of food from the kitchen. The main room's packed tight with people – merchants in fine clothes sharing tables with travelers in worn cloaks, couples holding hands over mugs of honey mead, and a group of dwarves in the corner singing a loud, rousing song about mining gold. On a small stage at the far end, a human bard with sun-streaked hair plays his lute and sings about love lost and found, his voice clear and warm enough to fill every corner of the room.
They make their way to the front desk, where a round-faced woman with flour in her hair is juggling keys and a ledger at the same time.
"Room for four please!" Hythesion calls out over the noise.
"Four! Got just the one left – good thing you're early!" she says, sliding a heavy iron key across the counter. "Third floor, room 312. Stairs are right there – and dinner's served till nine! We've got roasted chicken tonight – best in Neverwinter, if I do say so myself!"
They haul their packs up the narrow stairs to a clean, cozy room with two double beds and a small window that looks out over the square. The air smells like lavender and clean linens, and there's even a small table with a pitcher of fresh water and cups.
"Alright," Hythesion says, setting his pack down carefully. "We should go fetch Geth – he doesn't know this place from the back of his hand, and he could easily get lost in all this chaos."
Akmenos's eyes drift toward the stairs leading back down to the main room. "You guys go get him – I'm gonna grab a drink first. Been a long day on the road, and I could use something cold to wash the dust out of my throat."
Hythesion sighs but nods – he knows better than to argue with Akmenos when it comes to ale. "Fine, but don't drink too much – we still need to make sure everything's secure for the night."
"No promises!" Akmenos calls back as he heads down the stairs.
Maitara moves to stand beside the small chest where they've stowed the pendant, her hands already resting on the lid. "You go find Geth. I'll stay here and keep watch, I'm not fond on crowd."
"Thanks," Hythesion says, clapping her on the shoulder. "I'll be back as soon as I can."
He heads downstairs, just as the bard finishes his last song and takes a bow to thunderous applause. The man smiles and thanks everyone for listening, then slips off the stage and heads out the front door – something about the way he moves catches Hythesion's eye. He's wearing a simple brown cloak, but under it… Hythesion swears he sees a flash of white fabric, like a scarf tied around his neck. It looks familiar, but he can't quite place where he's seen it before.
Curious, he follows the bard outside – but the moment he pushes through the door, the street's clear. No sign of the musician anywhere. Hythesion shakes his head – he must be paranoid. With everything they're carrying, it makes sense he'd be seeing things.
He makes his way to the square, where the talent show's still going strong. Geth's standing at the front of the crowd, clapping so hard his hands must be sore, his eyes fixed on the stage where a little girl no older than eight is standing on a wooden stool, singing a song about the sea. Her voice is clear and sweet as honey, and she's got flowers tucked into her braided hair.
"What an angelic voice," Geth says without turning around, his voice thick with emotion. Hythesion looks closer and sees tears streaming down his scaled cheeks.
"Geth?" Hythesion says gently. "You ready to head back to the inn?"
Geth wipes at his eyes with the back of his hand, still watching the girl. "She has beautiful voice, isn't she? Reminds me of my mum. She used to sing to me every night before bed."
"Yeah," Hythesion says softly, watching the girl finish her song to a wave of cheers. "She is. Come on though – we should get back. Akmenos is probably already halfway through a barrel of ale, and Maitara's waiting for us."
They start walking back toward the inn, weaving through the crowds that are only getting thicker as the sun starts to set and more lanterns are lit. Out of the corner of his eye, Hythesion sees a cloaked figure darting between buildings, moving too fast and too quietly for someone just enjoying the festival. Most people don't even notice – they're too busy laughing and dancing – but something about the way the figure keeps looking over their shoulder makes Hythesion's skin prickle.
"Everything alright?" Geth asks, noticing the look on his face.
"Fine," Hythesion says, shaking his head. "Just… tired..."
They round the corner to the inn and find Akmenos standing outside the door, his face tight with worry. He pushes off the wall the second he sees them.
"Hythesion, is Maitara with you" he says, his voice low and serious. "I heard Maitara calling out a few minutes ago, and I heard it outside– thought she'd come down to look for you guys. But when I came out, she wasn't here."
They bolt up the stairs three at a time, throwing open the door to room 312. The first thing they see is Maitara lying on the floor beside the window, her eyes closed and her breathing shallow. The window's wide open, curtains billowing in the night breeze – and the small chest that held the pendant is gone.
"Maitara!" Hythesion drops to his knees beside her, pressing two fingers to her neck to check her pulse. It's steady, just slow. He pulls a small vial of smelling salts from his pack and waves them under her nose.
She stirs, blinking slowly, her eyes still foggy with whatever magic was used on her. "I… I'm sorry. i was watching the chest," she mumbles, her voice still thick and unclear. "Someone came through the window – they didn't even make a sound. All I heard was a song played a little… and then everything went fuzzy. Like I was falling asleep."
Hythesion's jaw tightens as he looks at the open window, then back at Maitara. "I shouldn't have left you alone," he says quietly. "The pendant's gone."
Then it hits him – the cloaked figure he saw running through the streets. The timing lines up perfectly. He remembered what Maitara said about a song being played, and make her fall asleep and remembered the human bard. He stands up, his hands clenched into fists.
"Looks like we have company," he says, his voice cold and sharp as ice.