The atmosphere in the common room of The Broken Oak is solemn. Noting the tension, Greycane attempts to lighten the mood.

"Do you think we could entice more patrons into The Oak if we had a prettier face behind the bar?" he wonders, eliciting an irksome look from Bram as he cleans a row of mugs.

"I mean, would you want to have to face that every time you walk through the door?" Greycane continues, motioning toward the bartender. "Then again I suppose it encourages people to drink more? A little liquid courage to bear the sight."

"And put up with your shrieking lute. Let's not forget that," Bram quips.

"I thought you liked my melodious tunes?" Greycane replies, feigning surprise.

"Only because they shut you up for a bit," Bram snaps back. As the two men continue their jabs, the front door creaks slowly open, drawing everyone's attention.

"Quick, pour a drink for the man before he sees you…" he begins to say to Bram before trailing off at the sight of the Royal Guard in the doorway.

"I bear a message from the King for the Oathsworn," the knight says. "His majesty summons you to the palace."