Fully armored medieval knight sits — AI art by @vangogh_

CHAPTER II: The Whispers of the Tavern The heavy wooden door of the tavern creaked open, and a sudden, tense silence fell over the crowded room. Heads turned, and chatter died away as the giant in rusted steel stepped inside, the scent of damp earth and old iron following him. Ignoring the wary stares and hushed whispers, the knight walked heavily toward the bar, his presence filling the dimly lit, smoke-filled space. He pulled up a rough wooden stool and sat, his imposing figure towering even while seated. The tavern keeper, frozen with a rag in hand, stared at the faceless visor in front of him, bracing for the worst. But when the knight spoke, his voice was not a roar, but a low, gravelly rasp that seemed to carry the weight of centuries. He did not ask for drink or coin. Instead, he leaned forward, asking quietly about a name—a name belonging to the descendant he had spent lifetimes searching for. The keeper listened intently, his initial fear slowly turning into grim realization as he recognized the name of a young traveler who had passed through only days before.