Willis Philips
The past week Willis have been staying at Sya's megatavern, Eye of the Beholder, after getting kicked out of Orion's lovely cottage for wrecking his home (and destroying a precious memento from his possibly dead wife. Oof). Normally, a good businesswomen like Sya would never allow a somewhat feral, definitely bloodthirsty blightborn to stay with her paying guests. Fortunately, Willis can turn into a bat.
Yes, he's been living inside the tavern walls. Listening. Evesdropping. Not because he is planning to blackmail anyone, but out of pure boredom. Afterall, not a lot of free entertainment in this town.
Since the sun disappeared people stopped giving meaning to Day and Night, because the world is shrouded in perpetual darkness. Willis heard that wise scholars in the capital started using the moon cycle to track the passage of time. Here, Willis simply knows the time of night by tracking 2 types of pounding he hears: the heavy pounding of construction, "I guess people are working now," and the muffled pounding of flesh against flesh, "I guess people are resting now." Sometimes, the noises blend together. Those naughty guys.
The Eye of the Beholder is a turely massive building. 4 floors, a self-contained tavern, brewery, bakery, inn, and fort, all smashed into a block of stone. As long as Willis avoid the hallways regularly used by the small horde of builders to get food and get laid, he remains undetected. The workers, he overheard, are rennovating the Beholder for a 3rd time. It was built a lot quicker than Willis expected. A scaffolding cage held the tavern as workers, well, surgically made it taller. They also drunk a lot and had sex a lot. Which made them easy, but disgusting prey.
Anyways, it has been about a week and Willis sensed the Megatavern 3.0 is nearing completion, since the constant dull hammer cycle have faded. It is replaced instead by a cacophany of harsh-sounding Lunarian syllables, and a murmur of smoother-sounding Auralian syllables on the ground floor of the tavern. Followed by lots of satisfying splashing sounds, of Moonshine being poured into cups! Must be the party attending the party that the Prince is throwing. Awesome!!!
Willis, in batform, quickly crawled out of his hidey hole under the bed, in room 5 on the 2nd floor. Puff! Willis the bat expands into Willis the adult human with brown hair and cheap overall (swiped from some builder), and heads downstairs to join the party, because he doesn't want to become a social outcast. Plus he want to remember everyone from the town so he doesn't eat them later.
As Willis descends the stairs he picks up on a brewing argument.
A familar, reptilian voice exclaims: "...No. I am the mistress here. Thissss is my home, my business and my Inn. You are on my land."
Sounds like the owner of the Beholder, Sya, is arguing with someone! Despite not having conversed with her in person, Willis likes her enough to not want to see her hurt. He cautiously peeks into the buttery. He sees a dozen tables full of people, arrayed around a burning brazier that is lighting up the room and sending a thick tendril of smoke up a hood chimney. A long L-shaped bar, piled with drinks and sleeping drunks, faces the entrance. Then he spots Sya speaking animatedly to an arrogant looking man sitting on a high horse, Elara standing beside her, then a blonde woman steps in between the pair and yells at the man. Things sound pretty tense, and a fight might break out.
Crap. Willis thought. Since the incident, well, incidents; killing a Lunarian patrol, accidentally cracking a child's skull, lowkey blackmailing the Lead Researcher Eris and the Auralian Priestess Tingara for blood, and trashing Orion's home, Willis is not allowed to start violence to pre emptively prevent violence. If that makes sense? And his gear is still being repaired at the blacksmith. All he have on him are his dagger and sword.
After thinking hard about what to do for 5 seconds, he cringes and makes his way to Sya's group, picking up a mug of Moonshine on his way. He stops behind the rider a safe distance away, drink in one hand, dagger in the other, standing there like some hapless fool. Now the man is surrounded.