The first floor of the inn was filled to capacity with players who couldn't book a room.
The innkeeper hurriedly shut the front door of the inn and locked it from the inside.
The glass door didn't obstruct the view, allowing the crowded people in the hall to observe the situation outside.
Dark, inky clouds rolled across the sky. Strong winds whooshed, battering the door and threatening to shatter its pathetic glass panes.
Outside, it was pitch black. The street lights were out, and the crowded people in the hall could only peer outside by the weak glow of the inn's electric lamps.
Someone's quilt, forgotten on a balcony, was whipped through the street by the wind, finally slamming violently against a nearby tree.
Trees along the greenbelt leaned precariously under the fierce wind, looking as if they might snap in half at any moment. Yellow dust, stirred up from some unknown place, swirled through the air, as thick as fog, obscuring everyone's vision.
