I slammed down my mug of mead and let out a hearty belch before digging into the delectable and steaming porridge that lay before me. Two copper pieces for the food and one copper piece for the mead left me with a single copper piece and three silver pieces to my name. However, hunger and fatigue had overwhelmed me so wholly I’m thankful I had any money at all. Looking to my friends I see they too were quite unashamedly filling their gut to their hearts content.

We all polished our bowls and decided it was best to hold out on getting drunk until we could afford it.

“Excuse me love, how much for a room?” John tapped one of the passing staff members to grab her attention.

“Two copper pieces for a night. One silver piece if you be wanting the fancier rooms,” she responded stiffly and with a heavy accent; she clearly looked down on us. Not that we could have blamed her, I’m sure it was a surprise we could afford the food let alone the rooms with how we looked.

“Three rooms, please,” I offered as polite a face as I could and offered her a silver coin. John and Serah seemed hesitant to allow me to pay but didn’t argue the point.

“Come to the register, I need a signature from each of you,” the lady beckoned us over, placing her tray of empty mugs on a nearby counter and walking to the service desk. One after another we gave our signatures and were guided off to our appropriate rooms, bidding one another farewell for the night. The room I was taken to was near the back, but more worryingly seemed to have little on the side of security.

“No lock?” I asked the staff member quizzically.

“I told you, fancy rooms a silver each,” she rolled her eyes, gave a courteous, but clearly forced, bow and set off to continue her other duties. I let myself in to find the room wasn’t as awful as I had anticipated it to be. There was a bed with cloth, that’s always a strong start. There was a tiny desk, allowing a book at most to be placed upon it, a tiny stool to accompany the desk and a small rectangular mirror adorned the wall slightly above.

Staring into the mirror, I realized how messy I had come to look; my black hair was reasonably long, pushing just past my eyes and clearly in need of a wash. My deep brown eyes were heavily bagged and in need of decent rest. My moderately well-built figure was slouching badly thanks to my fatigue and I had facial hair that extended somewhere past stubble but could not be considered a beard. Not to mention my clothes, cheap cloth that was fairly loose and clearly tattered. Examination brought notice to the horrendous smell of the ocean that seemed to linger on me. This in turn reminded me of the journey and all at once the back of my head began to throb in pain. I set my bag down on the stool and made my self comfortable upon the bed. Once I was settled, I decided the first thing I would do in the morning would be to hunt for a job.