Amr: "Finally. But this storm’s not over yet. Better to find a hotel and wait it out. Could use a bath, too."

Amr rode Maka through the narrow streets until he found a hotel tucked between two buildings. He dismounted and led his horse to the hotel’s stable before heading inside. At the reception stood an old man with large rabbit-like ears, his nose twitching as Amr approached the counter.

Amr: "How much for a room and an hour-long bath?"

The receptionist looked up at him, his expression tired, ears drooping.
Receptionist: "Ten hashi for the room, six for the bath."

Amr: "Ten?! It was four last week, and two for the bath."

The old man gave a weary nod.
Receptionist: "Aye, but the imperial guards came through a couple of days ago. Raised the taxes again."

Amr sighed, shaking his head.
Amr: "Of course they did. Why am I not surprised." He fished out twenty hashi from his pouch and placed it on the counter. "Here. Keep the change—before they figure out a way to tax tips too."

The old man smiled faintly.
Receptionist: "Thank you, my son. You’re a good man."

Amr’s expression darkened.
Amr: "I’m not. Just trying to pay for my sins." He paused. "Is the bath ready, or do I need to wait?"

Receptionist: "It’s ready whenever you are."

Amr: "Good."

Amr ascended the wooden stairs to the right of the reception, the sand from the storm slipping off his clothes with each step. His boots creaked on the aged wood, and small grains of sand scattered behind him, leaving a faint trail.

At the top of the stairs, he paused to glance down the long hallway. To his left was the bathroom door, while to his right, several doors lined both sides of the corridor. At the far end, a window faced the street, though the view was completely obscured by the swirling sandstorm outside.

Amr thought to himself, I should probably wash up first, or this sand will be everywhere.

He turned left, opened the bathroom door, and stepped inside. After undressing, he sank into the bathtub, the warm water washing away the remaining grit from the storm. As he lay back, his muscles began to relax, and before he realized it, his eyelids grew heavy. Moments later, he drifted off into a deep, unintentional sleep.

As Amr drifted into sleep, the main entrance of the hotel creaked open. A tall man, wrapped in a Tagelmust to shield his face from the storm, stepped inside. He moved with purpose, brushing off the sand clinging to his cloak as he approached the reception. Lowering the cloth that covered his mouth and nose, he revealed red-tinted eyes and a short, sharp beard. A smirk played on his lips as he slid a rare 20-hashi bill across the desk with his right hand.

Man: "For your trouble."

The receptionist’s rabbit-like ears perked up in both fear and surprise, his eyes widening at the sight of the man and the unusual bill.

Without a word, the man turned away, ignoring the receptionist’s reaction, and walked towards the stairs, his steps steady and deliberate, as though he knew exactly where he was going. Upon reaching the top, he made an immediate left, his gaze locking onto the bathroom door without even glancing down the hallway.

He raised his sand-covered left hand and let the grains spill into the door's lock. After a few moments, there was a soft click as the lock gave way. The man nudged the door open with his foot, just enough to poke his head inside.

Man: "What brings you here, adventurer?" he shouted, his voice echoing through the room.