The next morning, fresh and rested, they went in search of a place to sell their wares. They mostly had books, and a bit of food.  They found an old bookstore and entered.

It smelled of old paper, ink, and smoke. The storekeeper was smoking his pipe at a desk, waiting for clients. They seemed to be the first. Orme wondered if it wasn’t dangerous to smoke so close to very flammable paper, but kept his silence.

Iyona approached the storekeeper and they started talking while Wren and Orme looked around.

There were books everywhere, floor to ceiling. No scrolls, only bound books. They covered 3 walls, and serpented through the middle of the shop on shelves made of fine wood. The last wall was a glass opening, to let some light in.

The shopkeeper was a surprisingly young man, with laugh lines on his face yet a baby’s skin. He looked at all of them but focused mostly on Iyona, who was getting more and more desperate to sell the books. Eventually Orme came closer. “Good morning kind sir, does there seem to be a problem? We only have books to sell, none to buy sadly. We’re hoping you will look upon them graciously.”

The man laughed. 

“I don’t doubt your books are valuable, sadly I don’t sell encyclopedias, only fiction. Do you have any?”

They did, but Iyona didn’t know what that was. For her, a book was simply a book. Orme took up the reins of conversation and ended up selling all the fiction they had, which wasn’t much. The shopkeeper gave them a good price for the eight books. That would allow them the comfort of a smaller inn for a good week, he said. He gave them an address and they left, satisfied.

The streets were getting smaller as the party came closer to the inn. When they arrived, it came as a bit of a shock. It was the exact opposite of the one they’d just spent the night in.

This inn was small, stuck in between two much taller buildings. It looked almost like a doll’s house made for a very poor little girl.

The inside wasn’t much better.

Where the big inn had been full of light, this one was dark. Some traces of beige near the ceiling announced that the walls hadn’t been washed in a long time. There were only 3 tables, and they barely sat 3 persons each. The counter was cramped, full of bottles of alcohol and manned by an old man, with a patch over one eye.

He looked up, nodded, and went back to cleaning glasses. The companions exchanged a look, took a deep breath, and went to claim a table.  The smell of ashes from the small chimney, and old food from the kitchen, was almost too strong to think.

The man moved from behind the counter, slowly, oh so slowly making his way to them. Orme thought for a moment that he should get up to him instead, but his leg was hurting after standing for so long. When the old man finally arrived, he said “food tonight is stew. Might be meat in there, might not. I don’t know and I don’t care. I have 2 free rooms upstairs. Will that do?”

Orme nodded. “That will be perfect, thank you. We’ll be staying for 10 days if that suits you. Only dinner.”

The innkeeper humphed and went to the kitchen, opened the door and yelled “3 specials!” before returning to his dirty glasses. Orme smiled. The man reminded him of one of his mates, back on the ship. A man of few words and less caring. Orme liked him. He was a steadfast companion, and strong as an ox.

The plates arrived as he was musing. They set to eat, in perfect yet awkward silence. There was, after all, meat in this stew, and it was good. Soon the plates were cleared and cleaned.

Upstairs, they found the rooms. There were only 2 anyway. They faced each other, and were damn near identical. One was very slightly bigger, or at least the bed was. And the bed was pretty much all there was, if you discounted the old wardrobe that would soon collapse under its own weight.

Wren and Orme took the very slightly bigger one, leaving Iyona to sleep on her own. She said her goodnights with a smile, and disappeared behind the door to her room.

“So, this is our new home then eh? For the coming few days at least,” Wren said. Orme nodded. 

“Yeah. Not the luxury we deserve, but the only one we can afford. You want the wall?” 

Wren did not want it, so Orme got his clothes off and curled up against the wall under the blanket. Surprisingly, the bed smelled and felt clean. The mattress was as comfortable as any other. The pillows were perfect for a sore neck. Unbelievable.