The crown of wolves

Chapter Two

Druthgar was a sleepy village, its cobblestone streets glistening under a gentle morning drizzle. The rain fell in a soft, rhythmic patter, creating tiny ripples in the puddles that dotted the ground. The thatched roofs of the cottages, worn and moss-covered, seemed to sag under the weight of years and weather. Smoke rose lazily from the chimneys, mingling with the mist and adding to the village's ethereal ambiance.

Two horse riders emerged from the mist, their forms slowly becoming distinct against the muted backdrop. The first was a young man, likely in his early twenties, his frame lithe and agile. He rode a white horse, its coat almost luminous in the gray morning light. His hood was pulled low, concealing his features, but the way he held himself—erect, confident—hinted at a noble bearing. He traveled light, with only a small satchel strapped to his horse, and his cloak billowed gently in the breeze, hinting at a restlessness beneath his calm exterior.

His companion was a stark contrast, a towering figure clad in gleaming silver armor. The knight's presence was imposing, his broad shoulders and muscular frame suggesting immense strength. His horse, a dark bay, was laden with heavy saddlebags and gear, marking him as a protector, a guardian of someone important. The knight's hood, though obscuring his face, did little to hide the air of menace and authority that clung to him like a second skin.

They rode slowly through the village, the rhythmic clopping of hooves on cobblestone drawing the eyes of the villagers. Men paused in their work, women peered out from doorways, and children stopped their play to watch the newcomers with a mixture of curiosity and apprehension. The young man's gaze swept over the scene, taking in the details—the weathered faces, the simple, homespun clothes, the sense of community that pervaded the air despite the drizzle.

Their destination was the local tavern, a sturdy, wooden structure with a sagging roof and a weather-beaten sign swinging creakily in the wind. As they approached, the tavern's door flew open, and a man was hurled through the window with a crash, landing in a trough meant for watering animals. Water splashed everywhere, and the man groaned, his drunken stupor preventing him from rising.

The young man reined in his horse, momentarily taken aback by the sudden commotion. His companion, the knight, shifted slightly in his saddle, a gauntleted hand tightening around the hilt of his weapon. The young man glanced at the knight, a silent communication passing between them, before dismounting. They decided to press on, ignoring the groaning figure in the trough.

The tavern's doors swung open again as they entered, and a hush fell over the room. The interior was dimly lit, the air thick with the scent of ale and smoke. Rough wooden tables and benches were scattered about, occupied by men in various states of inebriation. The atmosphere was one of barely contained chaos, a tinderbox ready to ignite at the slightest provocation.

The knight's presence immediately commanded attention. He stepped inside, his armor clanking softly, and the room seemed to shrink around him. The patrons, momentarily frozen, resumed their activities with forced nonchalance, but their eyes kept darting towards the newcomers. The young man followed, his movements fluid and purposeful, as he made his way to the bar where the tavern owner stood.

The tavern owner was a corpulent man with a greasy apron stretched over his ample belly. His face was a study in excess—bloated, sweaty, and marked by small, piggy eyes that glittered with suspicion. He wiped his hands on a filthy rag as he eyed the strangers, a practiced leer on his lips.

The snow fell softly over Druthgar, casting the village in a delicate, icy veil. It was morning, the light just beginning to filter through the clouds, lending a muted glow to the scene. The cobblestone streets were slick with moisture, and the thatched roofs of the cottages glistened, each one a miniature mountain in the pristine white landscape.