Nov 11, 2011
Woven Ale was not the only tavern in the village of West Fen. Nor the best. But tonight, it was the tavern of choice for a group of old friends. Three men and two women sat at a table in the dark, arid corner of the only room in the old tavern. Besides an old man at the bar, and an older bartender behind it, they were it’s only occupants.
A terse silence surrounded them as they settled in to their seats...