Chapter 5They swung into Whiskey Harbor under a spitting hissing rainstorm, loud random bursts that hadn’t committed to either a full tempest or a dwindling mist. The port city was larger than Lorre recalled, and vigorously lit, lanterns glowing against the evening gloom and skinny wood-timbered buildings. The noises of taverns, merchants, and creaking ropes echoed: ships were being unloaded, fishing-boats having come in, men and women calling friendly greetings in the streets. Most of them wore heavy layers of wool, furs, leathers, knit caps: practical, versus the cold. Gareth, in well-worn traveling clothes, fit in. Lorre, in magically-woven brocade and gold, did not.
Gareth stepped out of the way of a man hauling a crate. “We should find an inn for the night.”
Lorre glanced back at th
