Novel & Cerita The Innkeeper

Only the faint curl of smoke from the chimney and the distant whinny of a horse in the small stable betrayed that anyone was still awake inside. The inn’s front door creaked as he pushed it open. The common room was dimly lit by a single lantern on the bar and the dying embers of a hearth fire barely strong enough to warm the space. The room smelled of stale ale, woodsmoke, and damp wool. A few weary travelers huddled at tables, nursing mugs of ale, but none looked up as he crossed the room. The innkeeper, a grizzled man with a scarred face carved from granite and a limp glanced up from behind the bar, nodded once in silent recognition before jerking his head

His face was still covered leaving only his amber eyes visible. Maxwell walked briskly towards the innkeeper and then dropped a huge amount of money on the table. The innkeeper was pleasantly surprised. Luck seems to be on his side! He smiled at Maxwell and happily kept the money away. He was a man in his sixties and over the years he had seen many people come to this inn so he could tell at a glance that the man in front of him was no ordinary man. The innkeeper simply turned a blind eye to the blood on Maxwell's cloth, the unconscious lady on his back and his face that was covered. It was none o

Emmy paused and blinked before drawling. “He’s a total package.” Miss Curls spared me another glance. Nevertheless, she quickly looked away and exchanged pleasantries with Emmy. Moments later, I learned that Miss Curls was Hannah Lovely, the owner of Villa No. 3. It was mostly just her in the villa. I couldn’t take my eyes off Hannah as she walked away. Standing beside me, Emmy noticed my staring and asked with a smile, “Is she your type? Do you want to get to know her better?”

“This is the place that recognized Birsha’s description. Ten to one, he’s there.” “It’s a start.” I adjust my hood to keep the rain off my face and lead the way toward the dive. After a short walk and an honestly pretty cheap bribe, we stand in front of the innkeeper as she slurs her way through a description of the man staying under the name “Meadows.” “Stinks o’rogue.” She gestures broadly, meaninglessly. “Hair’s red as embers. Big. Stank o’trouble, too. Tweren’t for t’other one, I wouldn’t ‘ve lettim stay.”

Just the same blank emptiness where my memories should be. "No," I said quietly. "Nothing." We found an inn near the center of town called The White Heart Inn. The innkeeper was a round, cheerful woman who showed us to our rooms on the second floor. "Three rooms, please," Carlos said, counting out coins. "Of course, sir. Right next to each other." Carlos unlocked my door first. The room was small but clean, with a narrow bed and a window that looked out over the main street. "I'm just next door," he said, pointing to the room beside mine. "If you need anything, just knock."

her green eyes met mine, the big smile back on her lips, “we usually nominate the travelers to be honorees, and it’s always a lot of fun.” The inn was a shady place. It smelled like tobacco, and even if I smoked myself, I could still point it out and still find it a little too much. As soon as I walked through the door, everyone turned around to see who stepped inside. My thoughts drifted back to the pub at home, and how I would have handled it there. So I said a quick hey and sat down at a table with my bag filled with goodies. A tired-looking man came over to me. He had on a dirty apron, a cigarette hanging off the side of his mouth, and a worn-down, dirty cap on his head. He looked at me

The loudspeaker crackled sharply overhead. [Good morning, guests.] Winona jolted awake instantly. [Last night, one participant violated hotel rules.] A brief pause followed. Then the voice smiled. She cannot see the face, but she can feel their expression. [One guest is now dead.]

We left the cabin behind, the keys left in the mailbox for whoever found the place next, and drove his old pickup truck forty miles south to the edge of the neutral territory. We checked into a small, unnamed brick inn that catered to wolves who had chosen to walk away from the pack hierarchies. There were no titles here, no Alphas, and no declarations of war. The lobby smelled like old woodsmoke and wet wool, and the old innkeeper didn't even ask for our last names when Rohan handed over a couple of crumpled bills for a room on the second floor. The room was small, with a sagging mattress and a single window overlooking the dark, mist-shrouded valley below.

As soon as it was answered, she barked into the phone. "Track the booking manifest for room 1010 at this hotel immediately! Find out who the hell booked and paid for that room under the name 'Elena Thorne'! I want the data in five minutes!"

The girl gave me a final dismissive look, and turned to leave through a door at the back of the bar. An even grubbier and disgruntled woman appeared from the back door with an odd body shape. She was short, with skinny arms, small bosoms and a large stomach. It was almost comedy like the way she shuffled forward. “My name is Gurtar and I own this inn, perhaps you’d like to tell me who you are and what you want”. I smiled and bowed my head “I will gladly tell you, however I would appreciate it if we could speak in private” I held up the purse with the gold in to indicate my ability to compensate her. Her interest instantly elevated by the promise of coin she motioned for her to follow me towa