Auron had never really liked the city of Bevelle.
With the tentacle-like arches of the Bevelle church reaching out all over the metropolis, he always felt suffocated by its vigilant watch over the residents.
The residents…
Bevellians had a strange quiet quality to them. They watched what they said and did, and the church was never a topic of conversation amongst strangers.
There were innumerable religious sleuths intent on proving the guilt of the sinful, and the sinful seemed to abound…
He directed his steps towards a tavern, "The Napping Bear", a place he had frequented much during his student days. He doubted anybody would recognize him. Wear and tear was
high on warrior monks.
He entered the tavern, and the sight of empty chairs, abandoned drinks and drunks, and a jittery barkeep met him.
"What's happened, old man?"
The barkeep gave the tramp in red a sharp look, but softened it as he took notice of the big sword slung around the fine gentleman's shoulder.
"Sir, you honestly don't know?"
"Obviously…"
"Sin! Sin's been defeated! All the people have gathered at the main church, and the ones that won't fit inside are all jam packed at the main square."
"Ah…"
Auron turned and walked towards the door.
"A complimentary drink, sir, on the house? Tell your friends?"
"Sir?"