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.

The winds shifted from the West to the South, as they did every Spring. They carried warm air up over the Dry Horn, past the city of Okarop. The land rose after that and the winds dumped rains, and melted the snows. Birds returned, bears woke from their long slumbers, and humans, well, in the Four Rivers, the humans emerged from their homes and began preparing for the warm growing season ahead.

The unusually short winter had been a blessing, and the folk of Lanburg were already out repairing roofs, and trimming hedges. Some painted, others were working on spring cleaning. Smiles were an abundant commodity as the first truly warm breeze of the year rolled through town.