Byron Kingdom, Enlightenment Harbor.
Nightfall.
On the main commercial street near the seashore, there is a spacious low-cost tavern, brightly lit inside, bustling with noise, and nearly every seat taken.
In the old-fashioned decorated hall, there are mostly middle to lower-class citizens, wearing heavy, dark leather coats and felt hats, spending their leisure time drinking and entertaining themselves during the winter.
In one corner, a man sits alone.
He wears a thin dark green robe, a gray hat with upturned edges on his head, with disheveled chestnut-colored long hair falling and matching the stubble on his chin.
For some reason, it seems no one notices him.
Even the hurriedly passing, stumbling patrons instinctively avoid that table, as if it were a natural bodily reaction.
"O ruler of calamities throughout time, born in the primordial vibrant green light, great yet restrained Emerald Bird, please heed the prayers of your believers and bestow your blessings..."
