Once we were inside, Zoyvrao’er led the wagon over to a loading zone and then handed each of the remaining guards a piece of paper. Now that I could read, I could see that it was instructions for payment. Were Koyl and I supposed to get one of these? I wondered, but I kept my mouth shut because the amount on the paper was nearly one hundred ngoywngeyt. Two of the guards, Jhaeaal and one of the men, stayed behind to figure out what to do about the dead guards’ pay while the rest of us left. A few pleasantries passed between Koyl and the two other guards with us, including thanks from the one with the torn breastplate, but both he and I rejected their offer to be shown to an inn.

“I already know a place,” Koyl said once the two had left and we put enough distance between us and the wagon that being observed was unlikely. I wanted to ask how he knew, but I simply nodded and let him lead me through the streets. As I walked, I realized what was creating the strange atmosphere I had been sensing. This city is very quiet, I thought, even for nighttime, this is more quiet than usual. But the size of the place looked to be almost the same as Pehrihnk from the outside, so what’s different?

I couldn’t really tell what parts of town were rich or poor from architecture, as everything looked to be made of stone placed into wooden frames, so instead I observed the people as we walked. Their style of dress was fairly uniform, as it was in most Uwrish cities, but seemed more expensive. Instead of tunics and simple loose-fitting pants, the male residents of Owsahlk wore jerkin-like upper body coverings and closer-fitting pants made of finer materials. The women more blouses and similar pants, though some also wore skirts in addition to them. Koyl paused, looking up at a sign, and I read it aloud.

“The Lustrous Naalfay,” I recited. Like many signs, above the text there was a drawing. The inn’s sign depicted a panther-like creature, though exactly what specifics of its appearance were true to life was not discernible.

“I stayed here before I came to Vehrehr,” Koyl said. The wavering in his voice told me his medication had long since worn off. “Sailed out from the port to the south, actually.”

“Why would we not have sailed to Owsahlk if that was an option?” I asked. Internally, I was trying to figure out exactly how far we had traveled from Pehrink, but the path we took was too complicated for an accurate estimation.

“More expensive,” Koyl replied, “I didn’t know it at the time, but I’m pretty sure the ship that brought me over was planning to sell me. In hindsight, the only thing that saved me was wanting to hit up the brothels so badly that I jumped off the ship and swam to shore once we were getting ready to dock.”

“Slavery is illegal in Uwriy,” I replied, “I never saw a single slave during my time on Awsriyah. It seems odd you would be concerned about that, considering nobody would mistake you for anything but a human.” Koyl chuckled, then looked at me incredulously.

“Who do you think cleans out the sewers?” he asked. “Oh sure, they’re not slaves on paper, but come on. Nobody does that kind of job for that kind of pay willingly. Anyway, I’m beat, let’s get some rooms.” With that, Koyl pushed open the double door to the building and walked inside with me following behind him.

We entered a lobby, to my surprise. All of the inns I had seen thus far had been constructed with an open bottom floor that served as a dining room, with rooms occupying the upper levels. Instead of a rowdy dining room, we were faced with an empty chest-level desk in a mostly featureless room with a bell atop its surface. Koyl shrugged, then flicked the bell a few times to make some noise. Within five seconds a well-dressed man with slicked-back hair exited from a door on the left wall with a book, standing behind the desk and sizing us up.

“Names and affiliations?” he asked.

“You’ve done some renovating since I’ve been here last,” Koyl commented in his typical faux-nice tone. The man behind the counter was not receptive. “Koylzmeyl, freelancer,” Koyl said more sternly.

“Yuwniht, freelancer,” I added.

“I do not see you in our registry,” the man informed us after briefly checking his book.

“We just got into town with a caravan,” Koyl explained. “Two rooms, and we need to cash our pay. You still provide that service, right?”

“We have no rooms available,” the man said. The room was silent for a moment.

“Are you sure?” Koyl asked.

“Quite sure,” the man said, “I think you will find that most inns in the… proper part of town are full tonight. Did your employer not make prior arrangements for you?” The barracks, I sighed, we could probably just walk back there, but I’d prefer to just disappear in case one of them talks about me to the wrong person.

“Are they full, or have people just reserved them?” Koyl asked.

“They are taken,” the man replied.

“It’s pretty late,” Koyl pointed out, “surely you might consider that the guests might not-”

“Sir, I’m going to have to ask you to leave,” the man said.

“We’re just talking,” Koyl rebutted, “there’s no need for that.”

“There are no rooms for you here,” the man said, “please leave.”

“What a seytoydh jhoytshahjh,” Koyl swore as we walked down the street. “Last time I was here that was a tavern with some rooms up top, real cheap. Looks like rooms for nobles now.”

“We can try another,” I suggested. Koyl grumbled a few more obscenities to himself before replying.

“I just don’t want to sleep in the barracks,” he sighed, “might as well sleep in a prison cell at that point. You ever slept in one of those?”

“I have,” I replied. Koyl laughed and looked at me with a smile.

“For once I don’t have to explain it to you then,” he joked. Then, all at once, his face lost its smile and turned sad. “Man, you know we probably should have just killed those poor ngaazmayjhb in the woods. It’s real screwed up what Zoyvrao’er did with them.”

“I don’t understand why he did it,” I said, prompting a grunt of affirmation from Koyl. “It was a waste of time and a security risk. If the one who fled returns to that spot he may be able to rescue them, and they would have enough information to identify us.” Koyl scoffed tiredly, then shook his head.

“And here I thought you and I might have had similar thoughts for once,” he replied. “I just think setting them up to get eaten by a bear was a bit excessive, considering they didn’t even manage to steal anything or kill anyone.”

“Pointless,” I added, “excessive and pointless. It isn’t as though there was any deterrent value in doing so either. Making an example means nothing when nobody is around to see it.” Koyl grunted, then made a gesture of vague agreement. “Do you know where the poor part of town is?” I asked.

“I do,” Koyl answered, “but I don’t like where this is going.”

“The man said that nobody in the ‘proper’ part of town had any rooms,” I reminded him. “We might have better luck if we go to an area that is less wealthy. That is, assuming this is an upper-class area.”

“Anything near the main gates or docks is upper class, with the exception of the east gate,” Koyl said. I recalled where the sun had set, turned east, and started walking.

“We need two rooms,” Koyl said to a skinny female innkeeper. We had made our way east until the cobbling of the roads began to look less maintained, then quickly found an inn tucked in between two nondescript businesses. Building looks to be mostly stone as well, I thought, so no issues with Koyl. By my estimate, we were more towards the center of the city than the east, but that was potentially advantageous. The dining room around us was very quiet, with just a few humans sitting inside and most tables left empty.

“You have money?” the woman asked. She had a slight accent, or perhaps a speech impediment.

“We have pay orders,” Koyl said, flashing his to the woman. She examined it, then shrugged.

“Can’t cash that here,” she replied, “looks like you’ll have to go to Dkehpmz-”

“Yeah yeah,” Koyl interrupted, “look, we’ve got a bit of money right now and we can get you the rest tomorrow, alright? We’ve both incredibly exhausted, we just need a place to sleep.” Koyl turned back and gestured to me, and I handed him my nearly-empty money bag. He combined both of our respective savings on the counter, and I looked out to see if anyone was going to try to snatch it. The innkeeper didn’t seem upset, and instead slowly counted out the coins in full view of everyone. Cultural difference maybe? I wondered, thinking back to Frahmtehn.

“You can’t afford two single rooms on this,” she said.

“Yeah, but we can get you the rest tomorrow,” Koyl reiterated. “You can see we’re good for it, we both have pay orders.” The innkeeper exhaled through her nose and looked at me, then back to Koyl.

“I just don’t trust you, it’s that simple,” she said bluntly. That’s quite fair actually, I thought, I wouldn’t trust either of us in this situation. Still, inconvenient. “You could rent a double room for a single night on this though,” she added. I watched Koyl physically cringe, and could almost see him fighting with himself internally.

“I’m fine with that,” I said. Koyl winced at my words, then looked back at me disdainfully. You know as well as I do this is the best option, I thought as I stared back at him.

“Seyt,” Koyl swore, “fine.” The woman scooped the coins from the desk in a remarkably smooth motion, then pulled out a key from behind it and handed it to Koyl.

“Breakfast is included, and just after dawn,” the woman said, “if you get up late, you’ll need to pay for lunch.”

Koyl snored all night, keeping me from getting much restful sleep. When the morning sun finally peeked through the windows of the room I woke him immediately to end the noise, earning several half-conscious insults for my efforts. Half an hour later we headed down to the dining room to see four of the tables covered in platters of food, and the rest of the tables with wooden plates in front of each chair. About half the tables were occupied by humans who were eating, quietly and orderly. This is a far cry from the chaos of Yehpweyl’s inn, I thought.

Koyl and I picked out two plates from an empty table, then walked to the food and began filling them. What was on offer was mostly ground-up tubers, low-quality meat loaded with spices, and quickly cooked vegetables. It’s free though, I thought, rather, ‘included’, so I suppose it makes sense to save on expenses. I made sure to pick out several bones from the meat for my own plate before going back to sit down and eat.

“Weird, isn’t it?” Koyl remarked quietly as we picked at our respective food piles. I cracked a thick bone with my teeth and sucked out the marrow inside, then chewed the empty husk and swallowed it.

“Just more orderly,” I replied. It almost reminds me of a warbreed mess hall, I thought.

“No, it’s weird,” Koyl disagreed. He looked around, eyes narrowed, then took a bite of some vegetables from his plate. “Inns and taverns aren’t supposed to be this quiet during a meal.”

“You said you had been to this city before, wasn’t it the same then?” I asked.

“No,” Koyl replied. “No, this is new. I’ve been getting this awkward feeling ever since we arrived at the gate. You know what I mean, right? Well, maybe you don’t.” I wish I didn’t know what you meant, I thought, but I have to admit, I might.

“This place does seem different, compared to Vehrehr and Pehrihnk,” I reluctantly agreed. “People here are more orderly, and even now that it’s morning, the noise from the street is much quieter than expected.” Koyl’s eyes widened, and he turned his ear to the exit door.

“You right,” he said, “it sounds like a damned funeral is going on out there.” Are funerals quiet? I wondered, I’ve only ever been to memorial services for fallen soldiers, and those tend to have loud speeches.

We finished up our food, after going back for seconds, then returned the key to the innkeeper. After asking directions to the local office for Dkehpmz Mercantile, Koyl and I exited into the streets to a strange sight. The traffic is actually divided by direction, I noted, everyone is keeping to the left if possible. What was even stranger about the orderliness of the foot traffic was that the density was not overly high, in fact, it was more than possible to weave between people without even touching them. This is weird, I thought before I could stop myself.

As we made our way down the street, we overheard a number of quiet conversations because of the lack of overall noise. While I wasn’t intentionally eavesdropping, the habit of passively gathering information from conversations was well ingrained in me. Most of them were about mundane nonsense, but one thing stuck out to me. Five times, out of seven, a conversation ended with both humans saying something besides the standard Uwrish “goodbye” variants to each other. What kind of farewell is ‘may you be favored’? I wondered, Favored by whom?