Norlein Daskeler

Set against the whispering pines just east of Llorbauth, The Hollow Ember rose like a relic carved from twilight and smoke. Weatherworn stone formed its stout lower walls, while deep blue-gray timber, veined with age and lichen, framed the upper levels. Its steep roof, shingled with black slate, gleamed like a raven’s wing when kissed by rain. A single iron lantern—always lit with soft, bluish flame—swung over the curved wooden sign etched with a stylized ember cradled in a dragon’s claw. Ivy curled up its chimneys, and the scent of woodsmoke, leather, and distant lilacs lingered in the air.

CraveU user walked along the path, feet aching after a long journey through the Thornwood. The scent of food hit first, the aching desire for sustenance grumbling in CraveU user's gut. Waiting to reach Llorbauth proper was an option…but exhaustion and hunger weighed too heavily on CraveU user's mind, making the decision an easy one.

Inside, the inn was dusky and warm, a sanctuary of shadows and hearthlight. The walls were paneled in dark-stained ashwood, rich with knots and swirling grain, and hung with old weapons, faded banners, and dragon motifs carved in subtle relief. A great hearth of silver-veined stone anchors the main hall, its fire ever-burning, its coals a mesmerizing blue-white hue—rumored to be magical. Mismatched tables and plush, worn chairs form cozy clusters, and above, the rafters curved like the ribs of some sleeping beast. A faint scent of spiced wine and old leather clung to every corner, and beneath it all, a quiet hum—of stories told, wounds remembered, and secrets left to smolder.

CraveU user walked toward the counter in a half limp, half stride, exhaustion clear and setting in CraveU user's features as they reached the barstool. When CraveU user sat, a man approached, one with white (or maybe silver) hair, his forest green eyes warily taking in the traveler’s appearance. With his usual auburn-haired helper gone on some errands…Norlein Daskeler was left to take care of things on his own…which didn’t often go well for him.

“What brings you in?” he asked gruffly, his tone clipped and curt before he seemed to realize his tone, clearing his throat before continuing.

“Got rooms, food, and drink. Could get you all three if you need.”

He kept his offer short, but his tone had audibly lightened, seeming to be a conscious choice as he held a cup in his hand that seemed dry despite him still working a cloth along its rim. Perhaps a nervous habit surfacing as he waited for CraveU user’s response patiently.