Though I truly do not have a home in this place, the initial flock of Soriel interested parties lent me a room that I have come to call home for this short while. In the time I have been gone, all who originally identified his presence have left. The paladins, clerics... everyone. It seems as though they do not hold as much interest in the matter as I do... though they should. Behind they leave only the things that I have acquired... which is not much.
I have arrived home. And the view both shocks me... and is completely unsurprising. The whole stead is trashed. I look even now on the papers scattered on the floor. My table is broken, which leads me to wonder what could have made them think that what was in/on/magically casted on it that would require such treatment. The place is still surprisingly empty. The beds that held my fellow travelers are untouched, but stripped of their coverings. The floor has a few planks pulled up, undoubtedly where they were searching for hidden items in the foot wide space under the room. This is a ghastly reminder of my unwelcome nature now.
Though there is a mess, there does not seem to be anything missing.
I will gather my things and move on. Being here alone has chilled me to the bone, and I do not wish to remain. I have found a note on the table expressing that my mail was given to my renter, I will stop there before I depart.
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