Chapter 10, Part 2

The interior of the pub was cheerful and bright, with colorful tapestries hanging on the walls. The tapestries depicted various scenes of torture and cruelty, illustrated in vivid colors that seemed dissonant with their subject matter. Whoever had created the artwork was undoubtedly a master of his or her art, as the images on each tapestry was rendered with intricate detail. Vurp paused to admire the stitching on one picture which depicted the burning of the entrails of a still-living figure in white robes. The look of horror and agony on the figure's face was captured in such detail that Vurp wondered if it had been rendered from memory, or if an actual live model had been used.

Porphyria took a seat at the bar, motioning for Vurp to take the seat next to her. The diminutive boglin mage had some trouble climbing onto the seat, remembering that he was under orders not to fly, float, or otherwise use magic to make his life any easier. Under his breath, Vurp complained about the unreasonable demands of his mistress.

The inn's bartender was an elven lady of indeterminate years with long brown hair and a seemingly-perpetual smirk on her face. Porphyria motioned the bartender over, and ordered a meal for herself and Vurp, as well as a pint of ale for each. The bartender served two bowls of stew with little ceremony and pulled two bottles of ale out of the cooler beneath the bar. Vurp quickly began devouring his meal as Porphyria paid for both and began eating her own stew.

"Excuse me, madam," Vurp whispered once the bartender was tending to other customers, "but I thought that you couldn't eat regular food."

Porphyria glanced over at Vurp, responding quietly, "It's important to keep up appearances, and it won't do me any harm to eat this. Sure, it's pretty much indigestible for me, it doesn't particularly taste good to me, and I'd probably starve if I only ate this stuff, but it's not a matter of 'can't'. You could swallow pebbles if you wanted to, although you'd derive about as much benefit from them as I do from this food. And I can always go hunting later."

Porphyria beckoned over to the bartender, and asked, "What would a room for myself and my servant cost? I'm looking to stay for at least a few nights."

The bartender looked from Porphyria to Vurp, seeming to consider the possibility that Vurp wasn't entirely housebroken. "I'd ask for two gold a night, each, although if you're looking for an extended stay, you can pay in advance by the week, and it would only be 20 gold a week for the both of you."

Porphyria rummaged around in her coin pouch for a moment, counting out a number of gold pieces and handing them to the bartender. "Is Sanctuary coin good enough? I haven't had the chance to change my money for anything local."

The bartender looked suspiciously at one of the coins she had been handed, and nodded. "As long as you don't try and pay me in that debased Mycenaen crap, I don't have any problems. We don't get many visitors here from Sanctuary. It's kind of far, and the Pantarchic Church isn't especially strong there." The bartender seemed to be waiting expectantly for more information.

"We're not from Sanctuary - It just happened to be our last trade stop." Porphyria's response seemed to satisfy the curiosity of the bartender.

"Well, your rooms are upstairs. Second and third on the left. Breakfast is served 2 hours past daybreak, and you're on your own for other meals." The bartender turned her attention to a gnome at a nearby table who was attempting to order a drink, leaving Vurp and Porphyria to themselves.