The ride in through the lower ring of Oakspinner was mercifully quiet, as most of the ring was settling in for the evening. Unlike the middle and upper rings, the lower ring was relatively peaceful at night, without the choking smoke and cacophonous machinery running all the time around them.

Gregor took the time to point out various points of interest, primarily places where he’d either won card games, lost card games and gotten into fistfights afterwards, or notable venues where they’d played. Antareon quietly strummed his bouzouki as Gregor gave the tour, providing a soothing instrumental backdrop to the narration.

Finally, just as the moon’s light overtook the setting sun, they arrived. Gregor slowed the horses to a stand, the soft clopping of their hooves falling silent. Emray clambered out of the back of the wagon, carrying the cases with Xeerya’s instruments and a few packs of camping equipment to take a good look at where she’d be staying.

The inn wasn’t anything particularly fancy, save for the wooden lattices covered in flowering vines that decorated the front and a tower coming off the right side of the building that went up for about two stories higher than the building itself. A simple wooden sign hung over the door, stained a lustrous brown color and naming the inn ‘The Glass Swan’.

Standing in front of the door was an absolutely massive orcish man, taller even than Professor Irhüm. His tusks stuck so far up from his lower jaw that they nearly reached his eyes, although one looked like it had been broken short in a fight. His nose was flat and piggish, his beady eyes a searing yellow color, and his long black hair was done back in a tight braid that pulled his hair tight to his head.

“Good evening, Brartag,” Gregor said as he ascended the wooden stairs to the porch. “Is Zeerxa in, because we need a room.”

Brartag didn’t say anything, but cast a look in Emray’s direction. His pupils were naturally quite small, but Emray swore she saw them constrict even more as he examined her.

“Who’s the new one?” Brartag asked, his voice deep and rough. “Another one of your lady-friends?”

“Brartag, I am insulted that you would think me so callous as to bring any of my illicit trysts to this fine establishment!” Gregor protested with shock and dismay.

“Didn’t stop you the last three times,” Brartag curtly replied.

“She’s traveling with us from the Tower of Learning,” Antareon interjected. “I’m assuming you heard about what happened up there?”

“Enclave finally snapped is what I heard,” Brartag answered. “Blew up the Tower and the town too. It’s been the talk of the Walk for a week.”

“Then you’ll understand why we need to talk to Zeerxa, as soon as is possible. We’re going to need accommodations for a while.”

Brartag jutted his head towards the door, followed by Gregor and Antareon walking past him and through. Emray tried to dart in behind them and avoid the orc’s vicious stare, but a large and very firm hand on her uninjured shoulder stopped her. Slowly, agonizingly, Emray looked up at Brartag.

“I’m sorry ‘bout what happened to you, for whatever that’s worth,” he said, his voice far softer than Emray thought possible for it to go. “Don’t know what Zeerxa’s gonna say ‘bout it, but if you need a place to stay then feel free to talk to me.”

With a quick pat on the shoulder Brartag let her pass, and Emray gave him a nod in return.

The interior of the Glass Swan was well-cleaned and furnished, with a long marble bar and cushioned stools filling up the entire left side of the room. The main floor was taken up by tables and chairs at which sat a few patrons of varying races, and on the opposite end of the room was a stage where a human man was playing some light lute music. The right wall had various paintings, mounted animal heads, and a few weapons displayed, as well as a door leading up to what she could assume was the tower.

Brartag came in as Susanna and Xeerya brought in the rest of their supplies, shuffling past and pounding on the door to the tower. There was a long, awkward moment as every stood around waiting for some acknowledgement, and Emray took another look around.

Up in the corner of one of the walls Emray noticed a few leaky spots, darkened with old water and, presumably, mold. One of the floorboards squeaked underfoot as she shifted back and forth, and the brass on the steel banister leading upstairs had long been worn silver by countless hands.

A long series of locks and latches clicking drew Emray’s attention back to the door, where it swung open with gusto. Standing in it was another green draconic, male and with a duller luster to his scales than Xeerya’s. He had three head frills extending down to the back of his head, and his lower jowls had a series of small, bony spikes sticking out. His eyes were the same color as Xeerya’s, vivid and golden, but set deeper in his skull than hers.

“Brartag, this has better be important, I was just in the middle of some very intricate experiments,” Zeerxa protested. Brartag jutted a thumb to the assembled group, and Zeerxa’s expression brightened considerably when he saw Xeerya.

“Sister, what a pleasant surprise!” Zeerxa exclaimed, running over and enveloping Xeerya in a tight embrace. “And you’ve brought your friends with you as well, how exciting! What brings you to my neck of the Walk?”

Xeerya threw out a cavalcade of signs, quicker than Emray had seen when she signed with Susanna, Gregor, and Antareon, and none of the meaning seemed lost on Zeerxa. He nodded slowly as she signed, and when she’d finished his expression was quite grave.

“I am so sorry that you had to go through that,” Zeerxa said as he turned to the rest of the group, particularly Emray. “It must have been horrible.”

“It was,” Susanna interjected, “and Antareon and Emray were lucky to escape with their lives.”

“So my sister has said, and she also says that you need accommodations for the foreseeable future,” Zeerxa replied. “Unfortunately, with the recent goings on at Fort Brume there has been a… disinclination for tourism to the lower ring. I simply can’t afford your usual family rate, I’m barely staying afloat as it is.”

“There has to be something you can do for us,” Gregor protested. “The girl’s lost her home and nearly all her worldly possessions, she won’t survive out there.”

“I can work,” Emray cut in.

“I have enough serving girls as it is,” Zeerxa replied, “and, without meaning offense, you are a tad plain for a serving girl.”

“Not like that,” Emray retorted. “You have a leaky roof, squeaky floors, and some of your furnishings need repair. I can do all of that to pay my way while I’m here.”

Zeerxa cocked one of his scaly eyebrows up incredulously, folding his arms and leaning back ever so slightly.

“Xeerya tells me you were training to be a wizard,” Zeerxa said. “Have you ever done work with your hands?”

“I was training to be an artificer, and I had to take care of myself and my brother when we were children. If you have a job that needs doing, I can do it.”

Zeerxa turned to look at Susanna and Gregor, the same incredulous expression on his face.

“I mean, she’s really good at chopping firewood,” Susanna mentioned. “She could probably pound a few nails.”

Zeerxa turned once more to face Emray, then extended a hand to her.

“Alright, then we have a deal, Miss Artificer. You help me get this place back up to standard, and your room and board is free.”

Emray took his scaled hand in a firm shake, ready to get back to work.