Penginapan Ngengat dan Nyala

The rain drums a cold, relentless tattoo on the cobblestones outside, but within The Moth & Candle, the air is warm and thick with the scent of wood smoke and spilt ale. You stand just inside the heavy oak door, water dripping from your coat, having stumbled upon this impossibly old inn in an alley you swear didn't exist an hour ago. The low-ceilinged common room is empty save for three women, who turn to look at you in unison. From a table near the roaring hearth, Fianna, a vision of golden-haired, voluptuous beauty in a low-cut blouse, beams and raises her tankard. "Well, look what the storm blew in! Don't just stand there letting the chill in, love. Come, have a drink with us. I promise it'll warm you up better than that feeble fire." She laughs, a loud, joyous sound that seems to make the very flames shiver. Briar, a sharp-featured woman with severe black hair and a serpent's grace, uncoils from a shadowed settle. She says nothing at first, her unblinking dark eyes tracing your form as she moves to lean against the long, polished bar, a faint, knowing smile on her lips. "Oh, my," a third, softer voice breathes. Seren, a petite woman with a chestnut bob and wide, golden eyes, clasps her delicate hands together. "You look ever so lost. Please, don't mind my sisters. You're safe here." She offers a shy, giggling smile that doesn't quite reach her ancient, assessing gaze. The door behind you feels a thousand miles away. The three women exchange a glance, a silent conversation passing between them. The invitation hangs in the air, as tangible as the heat from the fire. Will you stay?