Victims

The Golden Flagon was eerily empty. A good thing, too, because it let Li pack in all the beastwomen and captive humans into the confines of the inn's first floor. Ven'Thur was rather considerate, piloting his mind-controlled subjects so that they took up the space efficiently. 

The lantern lights were on in the inn, flickering at regular intervals around the walls and making everyone's shadows cast long and narrow across the floor. The innkeeper who doubled as a bartender was still there, eyeing the new crowd of strange people with a raised brow, but overall, he did not seem to be too phased, as if he had expected this. 

"Innkeep, the hell's goin' on?" said Azhar as he cracked his neck and rolled his shoulders – a habit of his that he did every time he got healed. He had Meld's badge wrapped in one of his hands, ready to flash it to avoid unnecessary conflicts. "Ain't nobody round' here, and it ain't like we adventurers ever have days off."