The tavern smelled of old wood, fresh sawdust, stale sweat, sour beer, ambition, and disappointment. That was the first thing Merkan noticed. The bored minstrel strummed and sang in the corner, and the only other noise was a secretive murmur of conversation from the tavern's many tiny tables. "Sit," Aniba said, and sat at one such table. So did Merkan.

He looked around the crowded room and asked, "What are we—"

A thunderous "Oh yeah?" rolled across the room from behind Merkan, followed by the meaty sound of two slabs of beef encountering each other at high speed. Merkan turned to see a boulder of a dwarf standing over a giant of a man. The dwarf spat on him and turned to go, but then a table smashed to flinders on her back.

Moments later, the entire tavern was brawling. Even the minstrel was hammering on a wizard with his lute. Fighting defensively, Merkan noticed someone sitting at the bar, ivy twisted through his clothes and beard, a small rodent watching from his nest-like hair.

"Who's that?" He shouted as he backed up against Aniba, who was fending off a clan of halflings.

"Oh, that's the druid. The druid abides."