Lelika takes your hand, gripping it crudely as one without any training in the finer social etiquette would, but her smile is genuine, even as her eyelids flicker as she battles fatigue whilst stepping into the smoky common room. The innkeeper is a timid man with a line of grey hair around an otherwise featureless scalp whose easy life has allowed him to build up a healthy padding around his stomach. His daughter, working as a serving girl, is just as plump, with pretty blue eyes and dull brown hair that hangs in ringlets. Trusting you will require privacy, or simply not wanting you disturbing the other guests in the common room, they offer to take a bowl of pork stew up to your room for each of you.<br/><br/>Your accommodation turns out to be a spotlessly clean large room, the pale pine wood of the walls and furniture fitting in with white sheets on the two beds. There is also a table, a chair and a stool, a chest of draws in addition to a wardrobe, and finally a round bathtub barely big enough for two. Light is let in through a tall but narrow window, equipped with a thick set of beige curtains. Lelika steps against the wall, rolling back onto the tip of her toes before falling back down as she seeks to jolt her mind to full alertness, shaking off the tired feeling that is gripping her. Blinking rapidly, she turns to face you.