Wright looks around to see if anyone else is visible besides the human. Presumably not seeing anyone, he decides to take the human armed with nothing but a candle at face value for a moment. He lowers the point of his sword and turns to face the newcomer. After a split second appraising his attire, Wright says "Greetings to you. You would be another newcomer to this city, I assume?"

"Can I use your phone?" asks the human. "Wow, is that some kind of a prop?"

Wright considers that for a second, glances at Rook, then says: "I do not think I have a 'phone', but I do not know what it is. Something to do with sound?"

"Be that a kind of weapon maybe? No zurr, Oi do not."

Not knowing what a phone is is weird. But there's one thing that the human notices in fairly short order that's even weirder.

"What's up with your ears?" he asks Wright. "Are you supposed to be a Vulcan or something?"

Wright blinks. "Vulcan? I suppose I'm flattered; but I'm an elf, not a god. Why, are you one of his worshippers?"

"Elf? Elf - oh! This is a larp, is it? Sorry, sorry, I just - woke up - didn't remember - strange place, you know how that is - had too much to drink last night, I guess. Anyhow. Sincerest apologies. Really."

After a beat: "You don't remember either. Well then. If a 'larp' is a ruined city that seems to be cursed by whatever invaded it and eliminated the inhabitants several years ago, then I suppose so. But there is also much I do not remember, nor I think does my new Dwarven acquaintance."
He glances back at Rook then looks at the human. "For want of something better I am answering to 'Wright'; and he wishes to be called 'Rook'. Do you have a name or nom du guerre you wish to answer to?"

"Uh, wot he zaid" mumbles the Dwarf.

"Um." The human blinks, somewhat taken aback by the reminder that his lack of memory extends to his own name, but he tells himself that that just means he had way too much synthenol the night before. Well, at least this guy's making the character creation process fairly straightforward. "Um. How about... ummmm... Humphrey? Yeah, that's a good name. Humphrey."

" 'Umphrey. Got it. Now, oi do believe we wurr goin' to check out the shop, right Wright?" The Dwarf chuckles a bit at his simple pun. (hurr hurr hurr)

"Yes, let's look, Rook." He looks towards Humphrey. "We were just going to go see if anything useful still survives over in that shop. Since the owners are all long dead we can safely regard anything we find as lawful salvage. Besides, I arrived here with all but nothing and I anticipate needing more than that. You can join us if you wish, or go wait by the fire in the inn back there. Just stay out of the basement; something dangerous seems to be living down there." With that he starts towards the shop.

Rook falls behind naturally because of his stubby legs, but keeps pace behind Wright.

"In the basement of an inn?" asks Humphrey, looking over the building that the other two had left."Whoa. Uh."

He looks at the inn for a moment, then turns and hurries after Wright, clearly not willing to face whatever-it-is alone.

Wright, Rook, and Humphrey move to enter the store as a group. It stands much the same as before, a two story building with the front door bashed in. The main area is in disarray. The barrels, shelves, and cases are in a state of disorder. The place has the appearance of having been poured over by frenzied looters. Towards the back runs the counter where the person managing the store would attend. Two sets of stairs behind the counter lead up to the second floor and down into the basement.

The biggest change from last time is the lack of fog or haze. The combined light of the lanterns and candle causes the lightest elements of fog to roll away from the party. Further intrusion of fog is halted at the windows, the light keeping new fog handily at bay.

Most of the furnishings seen are made of wood and can be readily appropriated to keep a fireplace burning strong and steady for some time.