Outskirts.

When she woke the sun was already high up, its rays sneaking int her room through a gap in the curtains. For awhile, she lay still in the bed wondering where she was before she remembered; the noisy tavern, the strong smell of tobacco smoke and ale, the unwelcome stares from people who had apparently seen few elves before. The meal she had eaten had been far heavier that that she was used to, and as such she had slept longer than she usually did.

Once she had dressed, she left the room and made her way downstairs. The tavern looked desolate compared to the night before, and there was naught but the odd few people at their daily chores. The barkeep looked up as she came down.

“’Ere, miss. Your friend went out, said to tell you he’ll be back later and that you can do what you like in the meantime.”

She nodded briefly. “If he comes back before I do, please inform him that I have gone to explore the town.”

The barkeep laughed. “Ain’t nuthin’ much to see in this town, miss, other than a few crummy ol’ buildings.”

Nodding curtly at him, she left the tavern.

Sure enough, the town was as empty as the barkeep had said it would be. She wondered where all the people that she had seen last night had gone, and realized that few people lingered in this town for long.

Something happened here, long ago, she mused. Once, the town had been alive and full of people, but after the incident, something changed. There was something in the very atmosphere of the town that made it feel empty, devoid of feeling, a welcoming place for no one. Whatever it was that had happened had marked the town as a place of neglect and ruin.

She walked around the broken remnants of a fountain, gazing at the buildings briefly as she passed by. A few of them had been partly mended, a couple even freshly painted, as though to salvage what was left of the town’s former glory. Her gaze fell upon the window of one of these buildings, a shop of some sort apparently. As she walked by, the door suddenly opened, and a large, well-built man came out, his arms full with his purchases. The proprietor stepped out shortly after, cheerfully thanking his customer and bidding him goodbye.

Shierra was amused. Evidently customers in this town were rare and few in between, particularly ones that would make purchases as large as this. She noted with some interest the man’s garments as he walked off. Although simple, they were well-made; a sure sign that he was of a wealthy family, if the large bundle he had been carrying out of the store was not already an indicator of this. Wondering why such a person would be in this near-forsaken town, she watched him head off in the direction she had just come from, evidently lost in thought.

Her footsteps continued leading her towards the outskirts of town, where the buildings were more derelict.

Which one of these houses was it? She wondered, glancing around at the buildings around her. Is it even still standing? Her father had lived in this town, resided in one of these buildings. Which..?

She leaned against one of the fences, peering at the boarded up windows of one of the houses. For a brief moment, she thought she saw a figure moving inside, past the only window not quite boarded up…

The fence gave a loud, protesting creak and collapsed under her weight, its rotten wood splintering at its base.

Shierra sat up, a little dazed, all thoughts of mysterious shadows banished from her mind. “Why does this always happen to me?” she muttered, picking a few splinters out of her hands. At the very least, she thought, nobody had been around to see her make a disgrace of herself yet again.

Dusting herself off, she got up, carefully examining her staff to make sure that it wasn’t damaged in any way. Thankfully, it wasn’t.

It was just then, as she was pondering what to do next, that a hand landed on her shoulder from behind her. Caught off-guard, she shrieked, swinging her staff around.