The Seventh Star Inn

[Durelin]

Corman muttered about the skies giving no warning before they decided to leak. The world had suddenly turned a hazy grey: with no blue in sight, the sky was a blanket of cloud. The rain was already seeping into his clothes; it had caught him without a coat. He hurried through the streets of Gondor, looking for a relief. Any overhangs from buildings were already crowded in, and he wasn't about to duck into a shop without any intention of buying anything. He preferred keeping on good terms with the keepers, especially along this row -- he wore out boots like no other man.

Leafy branches caught his eye, and Corman hurried toward them, huddling under their cover between two of three trees. His back was pressed up against the bark of their trunks before he bothered to consider where these trees had come from. There weren't trees in this level of the city. There wasn't room for them! He looked up into their large and gnarled branches, his brow furrowed, but did not move from his spot. He already felt a little warmer.

The man twisted around and looked behind him at what the trees were blocking, as they interrupted the roadway lined with various establishments. There were pleasant windows and a large oak door, but he couldn't make out the sign above through the tree branches. Was it an inn? He turned himself back around. Like the one across the street, he realized -- "The Lamb and Flag." Maybe he could duck in there, instead.