The tavern was abuzz even on the outside. The building’s storefront was trussed between two monolithic pines. They extended up too high for Jon to bother craning to see, but the tavern itself rose four stories. Each balcony was alive with folk engaged in banter.

‘The Highland Cask’ read a large oaken sign in Elven with smaller writing in English below. Mostly Elven patrons loitered at tables on the ground-level porch, save for the first dwarf he’d seen up close. He was a burly fellow, or at least he hoped it was a man. His beard was long and well cropped with various rings and plaits woven into it. Most notable was the kilt and beret.

“Kay, I just need to confirm I’m not going insane; that dwarf is wearing a kilt, right?”

“That is a Highland Dwarf; I’m impressed you know of their garb. Regarding your sanity: I have feared the worst for some time now.”

“Shew, that’s a relief. No wait, I’m not sure if it is. That’s a fucking Scottish Dwarf!” The ambient babble ensured his comment did not travel far. “Lee? You’re checking this, right?”

“Are you fucking kidding me! I wouldn’t miss our first Elven city if you paid me!”

“Good, because I believe you’re paid to do the opposite.”

“I do not know what you mean by ‘Scottish’. The dwarf likely hales from the Sharn Highlands up north. Please watch your tongue, Jon. Dwarves are known to enjoy brawling as much as drinking, and he does not appear to be lacking with the later.”

Despite Kay’s admonition, Jon was all kinds of amped right now, even if his body did feel a little strained from the journey. They pushed their way into the tavern and to the only crucial place right now: the counter where drinks were sold. Inside was no less bustling, elves, dwarves, and a few others he’d need to identify later all moved about jovially drinking, eating and regaling each other.

Jon shouted over the din “Okay, the sacred duty lies with you. Drop Virion’s name and get us food, drink, and a place to stay.”

“As you wish.” She shouted in reply. Moving to the counter with him, they emerged to meet the eyes of a buxom maiden in a dress and apron. She had roughly the same proportions as the dwarf outside, her shorter stature proximal to that of Kay’s.

The distinctions lay in that she could probably bench more than Jon, so if it came to blows, he would opt for outrunning her. Thankfully there was no beard; Jon aways counted the small miracles.

“What can I get yous?” Came her heavily accented prompt as they broke into view.

“Good day to you,” said Kay. “My servant and I were recommended this establishment by Shalen Virion-sun at the Len River Keep. Might there be room and boarding available for us.”

“Virion ya say? And what might that young Wind mage be interested in you for?”

“He did not appear so young and mentioned himself to be an Earth mage, do we perhaps have the same Elf in mind?” Replied Kay.

“Good!” The matron gave an approving grunt. “Ya, do indeed have the right man in mind. I was jus checkin’ if’n ya knew of him yerself. A’ course, dropping a name ain’t gonna get ya lower prices, ya know.”

Kay glanced at Jon. “We believe he may have need of finding us or sending a message, that is all.”

“Well, that serves us all perfectly fine! Would ya prefer a separate room for your servant then?”

Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

“No, a single room with two beds shall suffice, if at all possible.”

“Fer how long, do ya intend stayin?”

“Jon typed seven days in chat,” said Lee in their ears.

Kay was not currently wearing her ‘magical’ visor, as they were a bit too conspicuous. Besides, all that peripherally scrolling text was far too distracting and a little overwhelming for the girl. Most of her UI remained disabled—a typical profile he defaulted to for pre-industrials. Kay glanced surreptitiously to see Jon tapping his right fingers at ill-timed tempos on this thigh; she had at least learnt the signature of him texting.

“Seven nights if you will.”

“That’ll be two silver and twelve coppers per night then, with one meal provided at ya convenience. Payment upfront, if you would be so kind.”

“How many Elgelican coppers to a silver. Forgive me, I only know currencies of the mainland,” said Kay.

“Twenty four coppers to a silver, one hundred and twenty silvers to a gold,” said the Dwarven hostess.

Kay paused, narrowing her eyes with suspicion.

“You’ll n’ere catch a dwarf lying about metal lass. Besides, if I lie about the one I lose on conversion with the others, don’t I? A week’s stay be plenty to fail a ruse.”

“Forgive me,” said Kay. “I have not had the luxury of honest and honourable company for some time.”

Is she talking about me? Definitely me.

Kay was working fingers vigorously in calculating. Jon just pulled the seventeen silver and twelve coppers from his sack. He managed all the money inventory anyway.

Kay had a personal section of rift storage allocated, containing mostly space for her bows, arrows and essentials. Technically the rift iris in her sack could translate on its rails to any place on the shelves, retrieving from Jon’s section too. However, speed of retrieval was dictated by proximity, and Jon was also invariably quicker with the process.

“Wonderful!” The dwarf woman scooped up the coins from the counter, weighing them in her hands, eyes closed.

While the barmaid did her testing, Jon turned to the side as if speaking to someone in the crowd. “Lee, it’s about time we added mathematics to the curriculum. Select some accessible gamified modules, nothing too overwhelming.”

“Got it.”

Kay elbowed him in the side, she’d cottoned on. “Grandpa taught me numbers just fine!”

“If your math still has more numbers than letters, you’re doing it wrong.”

She opened her mouth to reply, but barmaid beat her to it.

“These coins are more than sufficient purity and weight. A pleasure do’in business with ya. Ma name’s Bretha. Ma daughter, Bren, will show ya to yer rooms.”

Bren, a younger stocky girl, appeared from the back and guided them upstairs to the side of the bar area. Staying true to the family’s genetics, she was built like an Olympic weightlifter. She was not particularly ugly, more like androgynous. The duo followed suit until the third floor where they were presented with a small three by four-metre room with dual bunks along one wall and a window looking out upon the back of the building. The girl then swiftly disappeared, and Jon closed the door.

“Lee, be sure to give mww.forgeries.div (Multi-Wide Web, diver domain name) a raging review. It’s not every day you get your product to pass muster with a Dwarven Earth mage. Keep it low-key we don’t wanna break any NDAs.”

"Cool."

Kay unceremoniously collapsed on the bottom bunk while Jon scanned the room. “Master, for your reference this was quite an expensive inn. I know your wealth can sometimes make you oblivious.” She grunted and shifted on the bed, repeatedly trying to get comfortable. “I fathom you’ve permanently spoiled me with beds too. I dread the thought of sleeping here tonight, and yet this admission irks me further. Am I becoming just the sort of spoiled noble I loathe?”

“Trust me, Kay, you’re just the right amount of spoiled brat I can respect.” He smirked at her. “Which is to say you’re exactly the recruit I deserve.”

“Truly Master, your ‘deference’ knows no bounds. So when do we get to that drinking and merriment you so desire?”

“Why thank you, Kay, you say the nicest things! We can get to boozing, just after we secure the room. I need infrared detectors on the door and windows, a pneumatic launcher with sensor buoy on the roof and we’ll put a rift on that wall. And to alleviate your concerns, we don’t need to sleep here, the semblance of normalcy is what we need. Rest assured your life will never be any kind of normal again, no matter what you do.”

At the news, she tried to hide the self-satisfied smile as it arose. Jon hoped she fooled herself because that would at least make one of them.

He set about the task with Kay’s assistance and they rigged the room in no time. Afterwards, they made ready for the night’s revelry.