->The night was chill. It was the kind of dark, foreboding night that a man tried to stay out of. Nothing made any noise but the soft murmuring of the wind as it slid past tree and house alike. In the gloom of the dark night was a glow of warmth coming from the windows of a tavern, which seemed unremarkable, but held something very much so.
->Chatter and laughter, music and dance, and all the other goings on usually associated with a tavern were all happening. The whores were having a fine time of things, as very few men wanted to be alone that night. Everything was merry as could be, except for that lingering dread of when they must make the walk home.
->This night was Taband Eve. An evil night before a very light and good day.