Harrod was busy sorting through his belongings when Rector Schenwar returned home from the inn. He was so focused on what may come tomorrow that the boy, his ward, hadn’t heard the old man enter. Harrod had some clothes laid out upon the bed and he inspected them diligently as his mentor watched him prepare for “the adventure”.

It occurred to Urnan Schenwar that Harrod had never truly been away from his side since he saved the boy after the loss of his parents in the fire. Urnan stood there in silence, for a while longer, as he marveled at the young man before him.

That evening the Plowman's Rest Inn was packed to the rafters. Almost everyone in town had gathered there to hear of the goings on in the world outside of the Four Rivers. The Polarchs (the proprietors) were busily moving back and forth to the kitchen and between the tables, serving up the evenings meal. The smell of the mutton stew and baked apples filled the place, and everywhere there was the incomprehensible murmur of dozens of conversations going on concurrently.