The Great Hall was the most elaborately decorated building in all of Kalarhan. It was built after the fashion of the clan houses but much larger and taller. The walls of the hall were adorned by reliefs of the history of Nedreal, not unlike the ones on the walls facing the town's center but far grander in scale. The stone walls rose at least fifty feet to support the great domed roof with a number of chimneys from which plumes of smoke and steam rose high into the night sky.
Massive stone buttresses encircled most of the building and supported the roof. Arn gawked at the structure as he and Rana headed to the entrance. "Quite something, isn't it?" Rana said and nudged him. Arn nodded and followed her towards the massive foyer. Nysaros had a Great Hall too, but nothing so grand and majestic - it was the largest and most magnificent structure he'd ever seen. If ever the spirits built a home in Nedreal, he'd imagine it exactly like this.
Arn's attention was drawn away from the building as the crowds thickened and he struggled to stay with Rana. They finally passed under one of two massive arches and entered the foyer. The people before them divided into groups and passed through one of the eight massive doors and into what Arn assumed to be the hall itself.
“You’ll have to go through the rightmost door to the scholar’s table,” Rana said. Her tone was different now; somewhat colder and lower but her eyes seemed the same. She took a moment to look at him, then smiled and left for one of the other doors. Arn watched her disappear in the crowd, then shook himself out of his reverie and entered the door Rana had pointed out. He immediately felt the heat of the room and the smells of food and burning wood. Familiar smells brought comfort even in a place like this.
The scholar’s table wasn’t too difficult to find; it stood about twenty feet to the right of the entrance and in the corner of the hall. The table was massive, easily enough for twenty people to sit around. Each of the tables had a fire pit at the center and Arn saw many warm flickering lights across the entire hall. He watched the smoke rise neatly and disappear into a vent in the ceiling. He chose a spot that let him see a good portion of the hall and noticed the many empty chairs around him. He wondered whether more would be coming later. By the presence at the inn, he imagined there to be at least thirty or more Scholars, but he only saw a handful at the table.
Arn caught the eye of one of the other scholars, a rough looking fellow with a wispy beard, the kind that grows before a proper beard can be cultivated. As their eyes met, the young man froze, then looked down at his empty plate with such intent one would imagine the secrets of life were written there. Was that fear? Arn wondered watching the rest of the table avoid eye contact with him or even amongst each other. The sound around him dulled and he heard soft taps, they came from one of the scholars who tapped a fork on his empty plate. The others glanced at the source of the sound, but only briefly. A chill started its way up his back, just as it did the night of his journey from the Small Council. The hall felt wider and longer, and all the other tables seemed to extend away from him until it was just Arn and the scholars.
He blinked and everything returned to normal. A couple of the people across from him began conversing in whispers, he couldn't make out what they were saying. The rest of the hall's crowd was no different than back at home, the same warm greetings, and lengthy paths to one's seat, smiles both real and fake. Nervousness magnifies fears, he told himself, nothing strange is taking place, just a bunch of uncomfortable people who know little of each other sitting at a table. Arn took deep breaths to calm himself.
Soon the noise died down and someone from the council table at the far end of the hall rose for a speech. It was shorter and far more candid than Arn expected; but he didn’t mind the abbreviated version. He still made a mental note for his inspection report. The council member did go over some local matters and issues, but Arn was too far to hear clearly.
The old man finished and headed back to his seat. Before he took two steps he stopped and Arn noticed him exchange glances with the tiny elderly council woman he’d met earlier - he couldn’t tell what had happened; but the entire table murmured, and the man shook his head lightly. He straightened himself up and changed course towards the central pedestal with the wooden totem. The man approached the pedestal, looked at the wooden charm, and brushed it off. He waved his hand and stifled a cough and Arn realized that dust must have been blown. Dust on a new moon totem? Arn couldn’t remember ever seeing that in Nysaros. How long did it have to stand at the hall to collect dust, he wondered?
The old man put a hand on the totem, and his other hand on his chest. A second later the ancient writing on the wooden totem glowed a faint blue light and a flame lit atop it. The ceremony proceeded as accurately and precisely as Arn had ever seen. At the end he thanked everyone - and Arn could have sworn that the man purposefully avoided looking at the scholar's table - but why would that matter, he wondered?
As soon as the man was back at his seat all the other tables erupted in conversations and rituals of their own. Arn looked around but quickly saw that none of the other scholars at the table were looking anywhere but their plates. He waited until others began moving about and socializing as is the custom. That part, at least, happened exactly as it did in Nysaros. He soon made his way to Rana, but as he got close and waved, she jumped and hurriedly excused herself before rushing to meet him.
Rana weaved through the crowd with expertise and precision and soon reached Arn. She straightened herself up and brushed off her robes - the coat and bear pelt were gone now that they were inside the warmth of the great hall.
“So, I ah - hope that everything was to your liking?” Rana spoke loudly.
It was Arn’s turn to raise an eyebrow. “Yes - nice to experience something familiar when you’re far from home - right?”
Rana’s shoulders relaxed ever so slightly, and her expression softened. “That’s great,” she said, glancing around “really good to hear, Arn”.
Arn was dumbfounded. "I suppose I better go back to my table, wouldn't want to keep you away for long." he finally said.
“Good, good, see you tomorrow then, I will meet you at the inn again.” she said and left towards her clan table.
Arn watched her until she sat down, she didn't look back at him. He shook his head lightly and then returned to his own seat. People sometimes acted differently when in public - but this was a whole new level. Was Rana embarrassed, or perhaps they found out that he was an inspector? Deep in thought, Arn didn’t notice the food arriving - tonight it was mushroom and vegetable stew with a side of dried meat and a small pot of warm spice tea. It tasted wonderful.
By dinner’s end it was already dark. The inn wasn’t too far away but a dark and unfamiliar village didn’t make for a pleasant walk. Wind gusts blew dirty snow up and around causing all returning from the dinner ceremony to cover their faces. The air wasn’t as cold as in Arn’s village, but the humidity made the wind feel like hot razors passing straight through furs, leathers, and flesh. Arn shivered the whole way to the Inn. As soon as he entered his room, he crawled into bed and was fast asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.
