Pillows of smoke slowly streaming from chimneys and the distant sounds of people working, conversing and celebrating made it apparent to Atlas that this town had a steady heartbeat indeed.
Before deciding what action to take next, Atlas knew that he was in dire need of rest after his long journey. As he was walking through town, the keen traveler noticed a tavern near the docks that was particularly lively; the clamor of drunken, beefy men suggested he not enter. He cringed slightly as the overbearing stench of brew and masculine sweat became apparent, before quickly dismissing this thought from his mind and focusing his attention on the nearest inn.
Rested, his olive eyes alight in search of adventure, Atlas made his way through the bustling city while wondering at the arid peaks that lay ahead. While making his way towards the docks hoping to meet up with the ship, he sensed an absence of noise existing near the tavern he had spotted earlier. When the archer shifted his body in the direction of the sonic vacancy, he was able to see that there seemed to be a very small, feminine figure standing in the relatively large doorway. The adventurer's strong sense of empathy beckoned him forward as he could hear a rugged, boisterous voice break the silence.
"... ain't got much patience for little lost lambs, girl. Get out an' go home."
In his cautious approach, Atlas became aware of the fact that the brave challenger; now confirmed to be an adolescent, female swordsman; had found herself in an altercation with a hulking tavern-goer. He had an immediate sense of endearment and respect for the young woman's daring fortitude (evident from her firm, foolhardy stance and radiating confidence), while most likely ill-considered. When he was close enough for his significantly longer shadow to be cast beside the girl's onto the ale-soaked wooden planks, the noticeably apprehensive archer came to realize that all agitated eyes (belonging to a herd of intoxicated mammoths nearly twice his size) were fixated on him. His feeble heart dropped.
With a shaking hand, Atlas gripped his bow. He was prepared to do what he could to defend himself and the new-found stranger, as futile as these efforts would be.