Restart Again: Volume 1 Adam Scott (motivational books for men .txt) 📖

scanned ahead to find a sign that would hopefully match the one Melrose pointed out to me earlier. Mental note: Make learning the local alphabet a higher priority.

On my way towards the second intersection I was distracted by some curious trinkets in a shop window; Glowing crystals of all shapes and colors, a small rack of what I assumed were wands, and various bits of jewelry. Each item had a small tag affixed to it with a few small lines of text, presumably the price or the purpose of the item. I looked up to the shop sign, doing my best to memorize the series of characters. If magic is as prevalent here as it seems, maybe I should put learning the basics of the system higher on the to-do list as well.

Soon after the magic shop I came upon the second intersection. Luckily, the sign for the inn was easy to spot, with two universal pictograms displayed prominently on the sign: an overflowing stein and a bed. I pushed through the heavy wooden door, eager to finally find a moment to relax. My senses were completely assaulted by what I had come to know as classic tavern fare. The smell of old ale layered lightly over fresh pipe smoke. Chatter was surprisingly high; as my eyes adjusted to the relatively dark interior, I realized this building extended much further back than I had initially anticipated, and it was filled with at least two dozen people.

I approached the bar, which appeared to be unattended. There was no visible bell to ring for service, so I took a seat on one of the barstools to wait. Leaning against the counter, I took a moment to scan the room. Immediately apparent to me was the fact that a large majority of the patrons were demihuman. None of them seemed particularly interested in me, which gave me some relief. So far, the racism in this country seems to be minimal. That’s a welcome improvement.

The rest of the room appeared standard as far as taverns go. Lots of round tables with stools, a rather cozy fireplace with a large stew pot set over it, and plenty of shady corners for illicit meetings, two of which were currently occupied by solitary, hooded figures. In the center of the room, some of the tables had been pulled back to make room for a small stage area, sitting about a foot above the floor. It was empty except for two stools which currently were unoccupied.

“What can I get for ya, stranger?” A chipper voice asked from behind the bar, startling me. I spun around quickly and was confused to find the area behind the bar still empty. I heard the clinking of glasses from further down the bar, so I stood up to peer behind the counter. A man, standing not four feet high, was rummaging through a shelf beneath the bar. Running along the baseboard of the bar was a series of step stools, each directly across the bar from a patron’s chair. I sat back quickly in my seat, hoping the man didn’t see me staring at him.

“I’m actually looking to get a room here for a couple of nights. A friend of mine recommended I come here; said you’d know her. Melrose?” I said her name, almost as a question. I hope this isn’t some prank to make me look stupid. Should I really be asking for a discount from this stranger, on the word of another stranger?

The man’s head popped up in front of me suddenly with a wide grin across his face. “Oh, a friend of Melrose’s! Any friend of hers is a friend of mine.” He held out a small hand. “The name’s Sherman, nice to meet ya!”

“The pleasure is all mine, Sherman.” I shook his hand and smiled. “So, if I were looking to get a room for...three nights, and maybe some simple meals to eat, how much would I owe you?”

“Ah, straight to business. You really are a friend of Melrose.” Sherman chuckled. “We don’t have much in the way of food, aside from the stew on the fire that is. Yer welcome to a bowl if you’ve got a room. Three nights, that’d put ya around...25 crowns, courtesy of Melrose.”

I met his stare blankly. After a long pause, I chuckled nervously, pulling out my coin purse. “25 crowns...that would be...about…” I stalled, fishing through the various coins in my bag, none of which had a crown on them. “Well, Sherman, you see…”

“Are ya broke, lad?”

“Well, not technically speaking.” I pulled out a copper coin and a silver coin, placed them down gently on the bar, and slid them over to Sherman quietly. He looked from the coins, up to me, and back down to the coins with a wrinkle in his brow. Picking up the silver coin he flipped it in his palm to observe both faces, and then followed suit with the copper.

“Yer REALLY not from around here, are ya?”

“No sir.”

Sherman stared me down for a moment, and then burst into laughter. I looked away and pursed my lips as my face darkened. “Oh my, that really tickles me.” He tried to regain his composure, wiping a tear from his eye, but another round of laughter caught him unprepared. “I don’t mean to make fun of ya lad, but it’s a funny situation, right? How far away can ya be from where you don’t know what a crown’s worth?”

I weighed my options momentarily, settling on a shrug. “Very far away.”

“Right, course ya are.” He grinned a toothy grin, though it was lacking quite a few teeth. “Listen, seeing as yer a friend of Melrose, I’ll help ya out. But in the future, it might not be a great idea to let on you don’t know how the world works around here.” Sherman nodded towards the patrons behind me. “Some people...they may not play fair with ya, if ya catch my drift.”

Damn it, he’s right. I should know