An hour later, the Great Hall was already alive.
It was a massive, jagged cavern mouth gaping out of the mountainside, leading into a network of damp tunnels. The floor was packed dirt and stone, slippery with mud and spilled booze.
Three massive bonfires roared in the centre, fed with whole logs and smashed furniture stolen from raided villages.
The black smoke from the fire curled up to the soot stained ceiling, mixing with the thick stench of roasting boar, cheap ale, and the sweat of more than a couple of hundred killers.
These bandits weren't the trash Leo had farmed when he arrived in this world.
There were hulking brutes with scars that crossed their entire bodies. They were big, bulky, muscular, nasty looking fighters with scars, missing ears, and even missing limbs.
They were loud, rude, and violent. They fought over seats, threw food at each other, and chugged ale from horns.
But there was also confusion in many eyes.
