When Werfel was escorting me back out on the street, I mentioned that I didn’t have anywhere to stay and asked him for some recommendations. I told him that I preferred staying somewhere close by, as I would be spending quite a bit of time at the Guild.
Deviating from the direct path to the front door, he led me back downstairs into the reception hall and over to a bulletin board tucked away behind one of the plush seating areas.
“There are a variety of student accommodations listed on this board,” he said. “You are technically a student, although a rather unconventional one. After you have perused the board, I assume you can find your own way out.” He then waddled off, presumably to wait for his next sucker, I mean customer.
Glancing at the board, I was a little overwhelmed by the number of little scraps of paper and parchment stuck onto it. The board was approximately four feet tall and eight feet long and every inch of the surface was covered by notes, some of them overlapping others. For a profession that relied on precision and organization, I was a little surprised to find that the board had neither. An offer for private tutoring would be crammed next to a list of reagents for sale or trade, followed by a screed lambasting someone for borrowing a book and returning it damaged. It took me a long time to identify anything that offered housing and quite a bit more time to locate multiple options.
It seemed that instead of lodging at commercial inns, most students must stay at boarding houses as they comprised almost every option for accommodations listed on the board. All the boarding houses had addresses listed, but I had no idea where anything was so the addresses were meaningless to me. Finally, I settled on a couple at random. One was a boarding house run by a Mrs. Dorrotya while at the other Mr. Glonti was the proprietor. I hoped that to be attractive places for students to lodge, they would both be somewhere close by.
After digging through my pack to find a bad of paper and ballpoint pen that I had liberated from my hotel back in Clarksdale, I copied the listing at headed back to the reception desk. The same old elf was on duty and when he looked up at me his face didn’t betray any hint of welcome.
“What can I do for you now?” he sighed out.
“Sorry to bother you. As I told you before, I am new to the city and am looking for a place to stay. I happened to engage Master Mage Climmep to teach me some things about light magic and need to be back tomorrow at midday for my first lesson. I need a place to stay and Journeyman Mage Werfel directed me to the message board. I found a couple of likely places, but don’t know where they are located, being new and all. I was wondering whether you could point me in the right direction?”
“You, a mage?” he sniffed. “I guess it’s your money and you can waste it however you like. I am quite familiar with the city and could likely give you precise directions to the doorstep of your potential housing, but to put it simply, what’s in it for me?”
Taking a deep breath, I counted to ten. Then, I counted to ten again. Even after counting to ten twice, I was still angry. Apparently, in this area of the world there was a mercenary attitude that instantly prevailed over basic decency. It’s not like giving me a couple of sets of directions would do more than waste a few seconds of his time.
Silence is an interesting thing. Answering someone’s demands with silence first makes things a little awkward, but as the silence deepens that awkwardness quickly transforms into acute discomfort. I was silent for at least half a minute, and the elf’s face flickered through several different emotions while I stood there staring at him. First there was puzzlement, although not a great deal of it because he clearly thought I was slow. Then, as the silence deepened, he settled into a look of incredulity. But soon, his incredulous look started to morph to anger, his face turning red and his jaw clenching. Before that, I didn’t know that elves would flush just like humans when they became angry, but now I know. Finally, I broke the silence.
“What do you suppose a couple of minutes of your time is worth?”
I tuned out when he started spouting a litany of his studies and accomplishments. Honestly, I tried to pay attention but as his voice droned on, I felt my mind wandering. My stomach was still a little upset and I would need to take care of that soon. I had a slight headache and was tired from the road. I just wanted to find someplace to bed down for the night.
Finally, reaching into my pocket, I palmed a handful of coins. Quickly sorting out five pieces of silver, I slid them over the counter towards him.
“You are obviously a scholar and mage of great accomplishment,” I said, not really meaning it. “Will this cover two sets of directions?” Then, I read him the addresses.
His verbal resume came to a sputtering stop. Quickly glancing around to see whether anyone was watching, his hand dipped forward and adroitly scooped up the coins.
“That will be sufficient,” he said. Then, he gave me directions to both places.
I was correct. Both places were very close, only a couple of blocks away on one side of the guild building. They were essentially around the corner from each other. Receiving the directions took about twenty seconds. I have to give credit where credit is due, though. The elf’s directions were precise and seemed like they would be easy to follow, so I wouldn’t have to embark on another time sucking epic quest to find my way through the city. Nodding in thanks, I turned and left the Mages Guild.
I never made it to Mr. Glonti’s boarding house. Mrs. Dorrotya’s place of business was closer. When I arrived, I found a well-kept row house that was three stories high. I tried the door, but it was locked. I noticed an old fashioned knocker mounter on the door, which for all I knew might be the height of technology here. Pounding away on it with reckless abandon, I soon heard a voice call out from inside.
“You can stop that noise. I’m coming!”
The door opened and I was greeted by a younger orc female.
“Mrs. Dorrotya?” I asked.
“No, I am Umog, the maid,” the orc replied. “What do you need the missus for?”
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.
“I have just come from the Mages Guild where I signed up for some lessons and am looking for a place to stay. I noticed an advertisement for a room on the bulletin board there, and thought I would come by to see whether we could reach an arrangement.”
After giving me the once over, Umog replied with a hint of disbelief in her words. “Really, you are a student mage?”
“Sorry, I just got in from the road. I signed up for some private lessons from a master mage at the guild. I don’t know whether they will come to anything, but you know what they say about a fool and his money.”
“No, what do they say about a fool and his money?” Umog responded.
“That they are soon parted.”
That produced a little chuckle from her. If the whole magic thing didn’t work out, maybe I could make a little money by writing down every aphorism that I could think of from Earth. Then, I could be James Smith, bestselling author and humorist.
“Follow me, you’ll have to talk to the missus,” Umog said, leading me deeper into the building and making certain that the door was firmly locked behind her. Had a blundered into another bad neighborhood? My dad used to say that locks kept honest people honest. Maybe I could put that into my new book.
I met Mrs. Dorrotya in a parlor. The furnishings had obviously been quite grand at one time, but that time had been quite awhile ago and some of the furniture was a little tired and threadbare. She was alone in the room reading a book. She politely stood when we entered and I noticed that she was a human of the six-fingered variety, looking to be in her early sixties. After explaining the reason for my visit, she quickly warmed up to me.
“Yes, James. You said your name was James, correct? I do have one last room for rent. Unfortunately, it’s on the third floor but a strapping young man like you should have no trouble with a couple of flights of stairs. How long were you planning on staying?”
“I would like to pay for a month, with the option to extend if I let you know within the next couple of weeks, provided the room is acceptable to me.”
She directed Umog to take me up to the room. When I walked up the stairs, I noticed that the building must have settled a little as they weren’t really very level. I made a mental note to be careful on them unless I wanted to test my healing powers again.
The room I was shown was fairly small. There was a tidy desk and a single bed covered by a handmade quilt that had obviously seen better days. Umog told me that there was a shared washroom down the hallway and that quiet hours in the house were from two hours after sunset to sunrise. The room felt well used, but homey. I got a little choked up for a second because it reminded me of the room I used to stay in with my brothers when we used to visit my Grandma Smith.
“This will do just fine,” I said to Umog, who led me back down the funhouse stairs to the parlor.
Greeting me with a slight smile, Mrs. Dorrotya asked “Was the room to your liking?”
“It certainly was,” I replied. “How much will it cost me?”
“Will you be wanting to take your meals here?” she replied.
“Perhaps just breakfast.”
“Would you find six gold pieces for the month acceptable?” she inquired.
“Yes, that seems fair,” I said, retrieving her payment.
Her eyes briefly gleamed with happiness as I handed the money over to her. I probably should have bargained, but she seemed to be a nice older woman and it was a fraction of what an inn would have cost.
“If you have any additional needs, please feel free to ask either me or Umog,” she said graciously. Then, Umog handed over a pair of keys, one to the front door and another to my new room.
“Breakfast is provided in the dining room from just after sunrise until two hours after,” Dorrotya supplied. “If there is nothing else, feel free to see yourself to your room.”
After smiling at both of them, I took my leave, tromping back up the stairs, one hand firmly clutching the wide banister. I only stumbled one time.
After locating and dealing with some long overdue business in the washroom and then washing off the dust from the road, I entered my room. Collapsing on my bed fully clothed, I was soon asleep. I must have burrowed my way under the quilt at some point during the night, because I woke up just as the sun was rising and the room was quite chilly. Right, that’s one thing I didn’t notice last night. There was no fireplace or other obvious source of heat in the room.
After combing my fingers through my hair and cleaning my teeth, because oral hygiene is important, I made my way down to the main floor. I didn’t stumble on the stairs, so that was an improvement. I could smell freshly cooked food, and followed my nose into a dining room with a large table that could probably seat twelve. Food was set out on the table. There were several different types of breads, fruit, a kettle of some sort of grain porridge and a large dish of scrambled eggs. I didn’t see any meat, but at the price I was paying I guess I couldn’t complain about it. Even so, I wanted to.
Nobody else was in the room when I entered, so I made myself at home, grabbed a plate and set to eating. The food was basic, and didn’t taste that great, but it was filling. I could hear people moving out in the hallway but I sat alone until I was finished. Then, placing my plate and utensils in the tray that was provided for that purpose, I went out into the hallway to face the day. If the same thing was served every breakfast, I could see why people might quickly tire of it and go out to get something better.
Heading to the front door, I noted it remained locked. Exiting, I carefully relocked it, testing it once to make sure I had done it right. Looking around when I was back out on the street, I noticed a variety of people going about their business. Almost universally young, many of them were dressed in simple robes and carried books, or bags full of what I presumed to be study supplies. Most of them were headed back towards the mages guild. I guess that student ghettos were I thing in this world just like my own. Unfortunately, the way I was dressed immediately stuck out. I caught the hint of snide comments directed towards my appearance by some of the groups that passed me. I didn’t care very much, though. I mean, sure I intended to get a set of basic robes so I didn’t look like the neighborhood crank. Peer pressure is real. OK, I guess I cared a little. But I had seen and done things that these pampered canaries could only dream of. At least that’s what I told myself.
So, what did I need to get done today? Besides buying clothing, I should find out whether anyone sold maps of Westfield. If so, buying one was a top priority. I also needed to determine where the slave auctions were being held. I wanted to locate some higher-end jewelry stores to try to liquidate my remaining stock, but that would have to wait until I could dress quite a bit better. Also, I needed to round up some supplies to clean and maintain my pistol. It had been through hell, had been fired numerous times, had gotten wet, and I hadn’t been able to thoroughly clean it. Finally, I had to make sure that I didn’t miss my lesson. I had already paid for it, and I didn’t want to lose out on a technicality if I showed up five minutes late.
I had people to see and things to do. Reflexively, I almost pulled out my cell phone to try to pull up a map of the city. I had gotten accustomed to having any information that I would want at the tip of my fingers, and that habit was hard to break but roaming charges here would likely be brutal. For a second, I just stood there breathing in and out, reveling in the relative anonymity that a large population provides.
Then, I turned and headed back towards the Mages Guild, unsuccessfully trying to tune out the sound of snickering students.