Of course, the first thing we did was look for an inn. Shelter was one consideration, of course, but a good inn would have stables attached, and a place where the girls could leave their wagon unattended with less worry about it being stolen or rifled through. More importantly, it would serve as a base of operations, where we could meet up after going out into the city to try and get information.

However, we weren’t going to go to just any inn. I didn’t know about Fartooth, but I knew that the twins and I had long since passed the point where we were scraping for coin, and needed to find the cheapest inn that had space for us. A bit of luxury would be nice, before we went off and did… whatever we were getting ready to do.

It only took a brief word with one of the guards before we left the area of the gate, and we had directions to the best inn in the city. The Red Apple Inn had the simple naming sense of a lot of inns and taverns, but at least tried to make it sound a little more refined than the more ‘interesting’ establishments. But it was the inn that traveling merchants and officials most often used while they were in town, so that was good enough for me.

With the crowd hurriedly parting before us, we were at the Red Apple in no time. It was a relatively tall building (three stories tall, in fact), with whitewashed walls and actual glass in all the windows. A sign with the inn’s name and a picture of a red apple hung over the door, which looked to have been painted red only recently.

The stable hand, a boy that couldn’t have been more than thirteen, who approached us was not nervous. Whether that was due to some personal courage, or a simple acceptance that if we wanted him dead, he would be dead, and there wasn’t anything that he could do about it, I couldn’t say, but it was impressive all the same. Instead, his eyes looked over our little procession, with a calculating eye.

“Welcome to the Red Apple, gentlebeings. Would you be needing the services of our stables?”

Dismounting Ebonheart, I smiled, and quietly reevaluated my initial impression of the boy. He was just putting aside his feelings to do his job. I knew that mindset well. It was not so much courage, or acceptance, but forcing oneself to focus on the task at hand, rather than allowing one’s mind to think about other things. This was actually fairly impressive, since most people couldn’t manage it.

“Yes. The wagon, two horses, and my friend, here. Pay excellent attention to him, mind, as he is more intelligent than the average human, and won’t take kindly to any disrespect.”

The stable boy looked at Ebonheart, and nodded slowly. “All right, we have two horses, one wagon, and a special case. We sometimes have paladins and wealthy patrons come through, with mounts that are more intelligent, or with special dietary needs. Would that be acceptable?”

Ebonheart snorted. “Lumping me in with those light-made dolts?”

“With respect, no, except that we have a groom specially for those who are able to announce their needs more clearly, and can provide some conversation, if nothing else.”

The black unicorn nodded once. “That is acceptable.”

The stable boy nodded once, and then looked back to me. “In that case, stabling will be three gold per day, for the lot. If you’re getting a room at the inn, the master can include it in your bill.”

I nodded. “Good, we will speak with the innkeeper, then.”

The stable boy smiled, and then led us into the fenced-in yard, where a couple merchants had their wagons already. We stored Ebonheart’s saddle and barding, along with the twins’ horses’ gear in the wagon for safekeeping. Not that we had any reason not to trust the inn’s staff, but keeping the goodies out of sight removed the temptation for sticky fingers.

As I stepped out of the sisters’ wagon, I triggered the effects of my clothes. The enchanted outfit, which had been suitable for exploring the wilds, changed into a dancer’s costume, with ice-blue silks hanging off the curves that I had grown over the last few years. Curves that I had learned to show off and use, when I needed to.

I wasn’t as… free as Siora and Vestele might be, of course. I was no blushing virgin, but I was nowhere near the sensual beings that those two were. I was more comfortable trading on my looks, now, but I had never been in a situation where I had to go all the way. And it wasn’t as though most people were eager to get that close to me, as I had earned my reputation of being cold-hearted and cruel to those who opposed me.

Despite that, I had heard gossip that Thelvan, one of the Frostfolk in my warband, was trying to work his way into my good graces enough that he could try and make a play. I still hadn’t decided whether I would let him, or not. He was attractive enough, and skilled in battle, but I had been in the grandfather of all bad relationships in my last life, and I was not exactly eager to see myself caught in another one, in this life.

No, I did not need Siora to tell me that I had become hot or sexy. But, for now, that was just another weapon I used, a tool to get what I wanted. The only being that had come close enough to touch me and get me to open myself up like that had died two winters ago, at the hands of a necromancer. Having to put down your freshly-raised companion was not an experience I would recommend to anyone.

At any rate, a dancer with an exotic look to her was more likely to hear information that could be useful than someone who looked like an evil warlord from the icy north. And I was definitely more likely to be underestimated, this way. Any advantage I could get, I would take.

Walking into the inn, I saw that there were only a few people in the common room. That made sense, as it was just barely past noon. A sturdily built half-orc was standing behind the bar, washing a glass. As we approached, he raised his head to look us over, before straightening up slightly.

“Welcome to the Red Apple. My name’s Olaf. What’ll ya have?”

Gruff, and to the point, without being rude. For an inn here on a border, at a trade port, rather than a busy capitol or something like that? That was fairly typical. It might be the best inn in the city, but you had to keep in mind what you were comparing it to.

“Yes, how much is a room?”

“Two gold a night for rooms. Three gold if you want meals and a bath included. Meals come with a mug of ale. Anything more costs extra.”

I looked at the sisters, and Vestele mouthed ‘separate’. Smiling, I turned back to the innkeeper, and said, “We’ll take four rooms, meals and bath included. Don’t know how long we’ll be in for. Depends on how business goes.”

The stable boy came out of a door to the back, whispered something to the innkeeper, and turned to head back out where he came, hurrying to get out of sight of the patrons. The innkeeper looked back at us, and nodded. “Right. Then it’ll be fifteen gold a day. You can pay by the day, or in advance, as you like.”

We quickly pooled a few coins together, and I placed it on the bar. “Four platinum, twenty gold. That should be good for four days.”

The half-orc nodded, and swept up the coins, putting them in the till. When he turned back to us, he had four silver keys in hand. “Here’s your keys, then. Rooms 5 through 8 are yours, all on the third floor. If you’re wanting the midday meal, stew’s still hot, and we got bread and cheese to go with.”

I nodded as I took the keys. “Thank you, I think we’ll put our things in our rooms, and be back down to eat.”

Olaf grunted. “All right, then. I’ll have the cook start plating things up. Oh, and missy, I know adventurers when I see ‘em. Always looking for a bit of extra coin, you lot, are.”

He took a breath. “Now, if y’er lookin’ to be trying to perform or something, that’s fine, and there are a few regulars that would be more than happy to part with some coin for a song. But don’t this ain’t a brothel, so don’t be planning on any of that, hear? That’s something you’d be staying at the Plucked Maiden or the Lady’s Lips for.”

The half-orc turned to look at Siora and Vestele. “That goes for the two of you, as well. I know that sign you’re wearing, and the Lady’s Lips is full of your lot. Now, I don’t mind what you do for coin. Not my business, so long as the coin keeps coming while you stay, and you don’t go bringing trouble with you. But I won’t be having my place turned into a whorehouse. We clear?”

Siora smiled winningly at him as she took her key from me. “Of course. I won’t pay for any prostitutes while I’m staying here, I promise.” I could tell she was doing her best not to laugh as she turned for the stairs, same as I was.

Olaf just glared at her back, though I couldn’t help noticing his gaze softening a bit as it dropped to her backside. Well, he was a man, after all. Turning back to the rest of us, he said, “I’m serious, now.”

I distributed the keys. “Don’t worry, Master Olaf. We hear what you’re saying. I’m sure we can keep from doing something that would cast your inn in a bad light.”

Going up the stairs, the second floor had four rooms on one side of the hallway, and three on the other. The one closest to the stair on the side with three was marked as a Bath. The other two on that side were probably for the Innkeeper, and maybe one for special guests or a honeymoon suite, something like that. On the other side, the rooms were numbered 1 through 4.

The third floor had eight doors, numbered 5 through 12. Nice and simple. Looking at the key in my hand, I saw that it was number 5, located right by the stairs. When I opened the door, I was pleased to see a nicely appointed room, ten feet by twenty, with a wood-frame bed large enough for two, a well-made but simply carved wardrobe, and a comfortable bench in front of a writing desk.

I tossed my bag down on the bed, and was pleased to see that the sheets were of cotton, and not the rough kind, either, while the mattress was definitely softer than any straw mattress could be. The room was lit with a single hooded lantern that had been lit with a permanent flame spell, offering no heat (and no chance of the inn burning, if the lantern was knocked over), but keeping the room brightly lit, so long as the hood was open. It was the little touches, like that, which separated an inn like this from the less affluent ones.

By the time I returned to the common room, Fartooth had picked out a table in the corner, and Vestele had joined him, while four mugs of ale were sitting there, waiting on us. I sat across from the kobold just moments before Siora came down the stairs. We waited until a healthily plump dwarf woman came around with our meal before saying anything more than small talk.

Once she was sure no one was observing us, Siora said, “So, I know we talked about a few ideas. But how should we go about getting information? We don’t know why our gods brought us here, after all.”

I took a breath. “Right, so I was thinking about it for a bit, and I think we should split up to cover more ground. Vestele, if you could check with the garrison’s message board, and the definitely not a shrine to the Succubus Queen, the Lady’s Lips, that’d be a good start. Siora, if you could go through the seedier bars and taverns, and see if you can’t pick up any information that way, it would be great. Fartooth, I know we just met, but you seem like a sneaky sort. Think you can get down to the docks, and listen out for any news?”

The kobold nodded. “Sure. I prefer that to going around so many people who don’t know what to make of me. But what will you be doing?”

“I’ll be putting on a performance, so that any eyes that might be looking for someone new in town will gravitate to me, instead of you all. Bait, basically. And I’ll probably earn some coin and hear a couple things while I’m at it.”

Fartooth grinned. “Fine. After we eat, then.”