November in Graysea Marsh was quite different this year.
In previous years, the marsh folk would be busy catching rats and wild rabbits at this time of year, smoking one last batch of game to see them through the long winter.
This year, though, nobody paid any attention to the town's plump sparrows except children playing around.
A sparrow fluttered onto a branch with a grain of rye in its beak, weighing it down enough to shake loose several yellowing leaves.
The leaves spiraled down onto the White-Stone Brick Road, where a street cleaner was sweeping rubbish to one side of a shop entrance.
Three unfamiliar faces pushed the door open, bringing in a gust of cool autumn air.
Hearing the noise, Tumo looked up and grinned. "Welcome to Brothers, Boars, and Booze!"
A sallow, gaunt middle-aged man looked at Tumo. "Boss, I hear your mashed potatoes are the best in town?"
"Of course! I use Sea-Salt Potatoes grown in the newly reclaimed salt fields on the Lord's Manor farm. They've got a savory flavor all their own. Top them with fresh wild boar cracklings, and I guarantee you'll never forget the taste!"
"Uh... we'll try one portion first." The man touched the token at his waist, looking hesitant.
Seeing his embarrassment, Tumo immediately ladled three large mugs of ale from a barrel.
"Just arrived, have you? These drinks are on me. Life away from home isn't easy."
Batu, the old stonemason at the next table, raised his mug when he heard that. "Friends, you've come to the right place. Under Lord Veylin, you won't starve as long as you're willing to work."
"Is Lord Veylin... really as good as the rumors say?" a young man accompanying them couldn't help asking.
"Good?" Harvey, the old hunter sitting in the corner,