*A scraggle-haired man in green and brown wools is looking haggard. All day he has been tending to the wounded, hungry and tired, at the Twin Dragon Inn at 137 Leringard. The doors are always unlocked, welcoming all to the hall, but on this day the inn is packed to the brim, and the storeroom is threatening to run out of food. Even the tavern bards have packed away their instruments, and are helping wait tables and aid folks in making blanket-beds. Even if they played, their music would not be heard above the din of the crowd.*Riven reassures the crowds, "Have no fear, friends, we've hunters out at this moment, gathering venison for the stews. We'll not go short of food for ye."