A timber inn in Vallaki that leans over the street, its yellow windows warm against the dusk. A sun banner hangs limp over the door, and the smell of woodsmoke and roasting meat drifts out into the cold. Inside, hunters and townsfolk fill the long common room, loud and flushed with drink.
It is run by Urwin Martikov and Danika Martikov and their family, and thrives as much as anything can in this place. The shelves behind the bar hold little ale and less wine: the shipments from the Wizard of Wines, the winery out west, have stopped. Urwin has offered the party free room and board for as long as they like if they find out why.
The Wachter brothers, Karl and Nikolai, drink here most nights. The party’s first visit ended in a brawl.