Shen awoke to the muffled clatter of servants and guests bustling in the hotel corridors. Sunlight peeked through the drapes, illuminating the modest suite he'd shared with his companions until they all splintered off on separate tasks. Now, it was just him, alone. He rubbed his eyes and let out a long breath, recalling with a twinge of regret the tension from the night before—how they'd argued over splitting up. But there was no use dwelling on it. A plan had been set, and he had to follow through.
He dressed simply, choosing a muted cloak that might help him blend with the city's bustle. Upon stepping into the hallway, Shen noticed the muffled voices of staff whispering about "new raiders in the building." He forced a polite nod at a cleaning attendant who stared wide-eyed at him. The story of half-dead adventurers emerging from the Undawild had probably circulated fast. If there was one thing Sveethlad didn't lack, it was rumor mongering.