The morning in Thornvale was already alive with the hum of voices and the shuffle of boots against the ground.
Sunlight spilled across the crooked roofs and damp alleys of the town. Near the market square, a modest inn stood tucked between two old trade buildings — its wooden sign creaking faintly with every breeze.
A man stepped through the inn's doorway, his frame wrapped in a traveler's coat dusted with road grit. His expression was mild, unremarkable, the kind that could blend into any crowd.
To anyone watching, he looked no different from a merchant making his routine stop before heading to the next town.
"Ah, back already," the innkeeper said, glancing up from polishing a mug behind the counter. His tone carried the warmth of recognition. "Off early today?"
The man smiled faintly, dipping his head in greeting. "Business doesn't wait, friend. Had to see a few buyers before breakfast."
