This part of the city was nothing like what Rowena had expected, though it was rather hard to make out in the dark. The buildings were stacked together quite densely and were made mostly of wood, though a few structures were partly or entirely made of the white stone that was so common in these parts. They were held up with cheap mortar, spit, and hope– this was not a wealthy part of town.

In reality, Tunehlan wasn’t rich, either, but this whole place felt much grimier than Tunehlan, as though a thin film of dirt or grease were smeared over everything. The path they were walking on was much muddier than the road, and Rowena’s boots squelched noisily as they made their way in the direction that Gerry had indicated. She grimaced and grew more uneasy as they continued onward.

Occasionally they heard the muffled sounds of a small gathering in a home, but there weren’t many people about in this part of the outer, rougher part of town. Once, Rowena thought she saw an ominous flash of a cloak or two in the first alleyway they passed. The lane there was so narrow it would barely fit two people squished abreast, and the buildings on either side seemed almost to come together at the top. She wondered again about what Cuth had told her about Arcania– not only was this clearly not a part of the University, but it seemed to possibly not even be part of the city proper.

Turn left at the first street, not alley, she remembered Gerry saying, and she turned away from it. As it definitely qualified as an alley, not a street, they continued on until they came to a much more street-like path that was considerably broader and less ominous. Here they could hear more people behind doorways and see more candles illuminated behind windows, though people often tended to speak in rather hushed tones. They turned at that proper street, and continued walking until they had passed six more streets (and even more alleyways) and came to a square with a fountain shaped, as Gerry had said, like a bear, its paws raised in what was either a dance or a supplication.

The square was quite small, but the bear-shaped fountain gave it a somewhat unusual air despite the dark night that had fallen. The stars reflected in the gently splashing water, and Rowena thought she could smell a hint of jasmine in the air– a welcome relief from the overwhelming cacophony of human and animal smells that seemed trapped by the dense walls of the city. They seemed to be getting much closer to the regular city walls. Rowena squinted further down the street they’d been walking on and thought she could possibly make out the large, white stone walls just a few blocks away. She presumed that the neighborhood grew more respectable the closer they were to the city proper, though she couldn’t be sure. She wished she’d paid more attention when Martha had taught them about the cities nearest to Tunehlan.

“There!” Sorel said with relief, and Mattie smiled and closed her eyes. All of their bodies ached more than they ever had in the past– even Sorel, who was used to long days of working on her family’s farm. Rowena wondered if she missed them, and the ease of that routine.

Taking up fully half of one side of the little square was a two story inn made of simple but neatly cut dark wood left its natural color with light wooden shutters. This, combined with the sensibly steep roof, lent the building an air of respectability that Rowena hadn’t been expecting in this otherwise seemingly run down neighborhood. Two lanterns, one on each side of the heavy door, illuminated intricate carvings along the doorframe that, upon closer inspection, were of words and books and quills and inkpots. Some of the quills were snapped in half.

“I suppose this is it?” Rowena said doubtfully, eyeballing the building. “There’s no traditional inn sign, though.”

“Definitely the place,” Kieran pointed at one of the little broken quill carvings. “Why else would it have those?”

Rowena let out a deep sigh and agreed, “I suppose you must be right,” though that was more out of hope than real belief. All she wanted– all she had wanted for several days now– was a safe place for them to rest before the reality of all of their other problems came crashing back down.

The door opened suddenly, and an older man stuck his head out. He had light brown skin and eyes with very dark moles speckling his face and neatly trimmed white facial hair. Rowena was surprised to see that the man was wearing a full silken suit, complete with pocket square– a few calculations in her head based on the material and cut made it seem very much like something a noble would wear more than an Innkeeper. Her curiosity rose a little bit despite her exhaustion– who was this man?

“I don’t know what you ruffians think you’re doing,” he said calmly, but with a glance of steel that was only intensified by his round wire spectacles, “but I warn you that you’ll not find easy targets here.”

“We’re not ruffians!” Rowena protested, but then realized how they must look. After a moment of hesitation pulled the hood back down from her head so that he could see her more clearly.

“Oh?” The man simply raised his eyebrows. “Then what are you?”

What a question, Rowena thought with a sigh. She didn’t know how to even begin answering it.

I like him! Cuth chimed in, rather unhelpfully.

“We’re just travelers looking for a place to rest. Please,” Sorel said with a worried glance at Mattie, who seemed about ready to fall asleep right there on the road. “Sir,” she added respectfully with a bowed head.

“A– respite from the relentless call of the road?” Kieran added, trying to be helpful and obviously also intrigued by this strange character.

The man frowned disapprovingly and looked at each of them in turn before addressing Kieran directly. “Yet you travel with a ROGUE. Do tell me how you would call that respectable? And you look like you’re more in need of a Healer than a room to sleep in–”

“That ROGUE is our friend!” Kieran said hotly, stepping forward to glare at the Innkeeper. “You can’t deny us respite because of her Class!”

Rowena glowered, unsure of just how the man could possibly have been able to tell what her Class was– she was wearing the wraps to obscure it, as always, but at the moment she wasn’t the only one. Kieran was also wearing wraps around his hands, though his were due to the burns he’d sustained fighting the wyvern, when he’d summoned fireballs to throw without ever having practiced them before. They’d come into existence right in his palms, burning them before he tossed them. This Innkeeper couldn’t have known that, though, so he had no apparent reason to suspect the wraps as proof of a shameful Class– not since he clearly didn’t have a problem with Kieran.

The man tilted his head slightly and studied them. “Can I not? I wasn’t aware that I had an expert on Innkeepers at my door,” he sniffed.

Just use Influence Individual on him, Cuth urged. You did a pretty decent job last time! Practice will only help!

Rowena shook her head slightly, though a little regretfully. This man was not the guard from the gates– this man seemed sharp, and educated. Influencing him would not be easy, and she just didn’t think she had it in her. Gerry had had a malleable mind, and it had still taken most of the rest of her energy.

“Please,” Rowena said with a soft intensity. She knew she looked road-weary and dirty, but hoped that their vulnerability and need would have some effect on the man. “Please, Lorimer. Gerry sent us,” she added hopefully, though how that grimy, foolish, kindly man might even know such a refined and haughty Innkeeper she had no idea.

“That fool,” the man said, but not without some level of affection.

He pursed his lips and stroked his beard with one finger as he eyeballed each of them with a look of moderate displeasure. His gaze lingered longest on Mattie and Kieran, and he seemed to take an age to consider. He looked around the square as if looking out for spies or prying neighbors, but finally he let out a sigh.

“Fine. Come inside before I change my mind,” he said, taking a few steps back and opening the door wider to let them in. Behind him, Rowena could see a sparsely furnished inn, not that she would complain about a lack of furniture. As long as there were enough beds, she was happy.

Rowena let her friends go in first, giving Mattie’s shoulder a little squeeze as Sorel half-carried her in, and then hesitated, looking with curiosity at Lorimer before making a slow move as if to enter the inn. His face stayed placid, though she thought she saw a flicker of suspicion before he opened the door another fraction of an inch.

“You, too,” he said almost impatiently. “I imagine you all have quite a story to tell.”