The Wandering Inn Novels & Stories

She left the sewers and went to find an inn to stay at for the night. Leanunya was laying on her back in the inn's bedroom given to her, on the small hay stuffed bed. She had found the inn “The nomads inn” on the main street. She had paid only one copper coin for a one night stay. She was thinking of what happened in the sewer. She sighed looking up at the ceiling, her tail twitching. She was starting to doze off to sleep when she heard a knock on the door. She rolled to her feet reaching for her dagger on her hip, her tail flicking alert.

His voice cracks like a whip, forceful enough to make my chest jolt. I don’t argue again. I can’t. Not with that tone. My feet move before I can think, carrying me toward the door. The moment I slip inside, it clicks shut behind me. Darkness. Silence. Then the smell—fabric, detergent, something faintly musky. The walk-in closet is massive, almost absurdly so. Racks tower above me, endless rows of clothes pressing in. I duck low, disappearing into a sea of sweatpants. Dozens of them. Every shade, every fabric, like someone obsessed over loungewear. It’s ridiculous, hiding in a jungle of sweatpants, but I crouch anyway, pressing myself into the farthest corner, every nerve straining.

She didn't. They walked a few doors down to an Inn called The Flaming Hut, there was a neon fire sign next to the name. They cringed. It was 1 AM and they'd had a little too much to drink, The Flaming Hut was as good as The Four Seasons if they could lay their heads on the pillows after what they had to go through to get to Goldstone.

But the innkeeper merely shook his head and retreated into the shadows, leaving the traveler with more questions than answers. Chapter 3: The Whispers of the Night That night, as the traveler lay in his bed, sleep eluded him. Instead, he found himself haunted by strange dreams and whispered voices that seemed to emanate from the very walls of the inn. In his dreams, he wandered through the twisting streets of the city, each alleyway more labyrinthine than the last. Shadows danced in the flickering torchlight, their movements fluid and hypnotic. And then, just as suddenly as they had begun, the dreams ceased, leaving the traveler alone in the darkness with nothing but the sound of his own hea

They had searched the whole cabin till it was nighttime, yet they couldn’t stay there since it wasn’t a safe place, After they had left Freya’s old home, and as they journeyed, they noticed an inn a few meters ahead, so they all agreed to rent the rooms for a night The light of the inn was bright as customers flooded in and out, during the nighttime, the downstairs lounge of the inn turned into a bar at night that serves drinks for travelers, but they wanted their identities on low profile, covering their heads with cloaks

Salavanta pulls her long dark red locks back and uses the newfound fabric to keep her hair in place. With all her belongings in their rightful place, she gives the withering room one last smile before the door swings open at her demands then walks out into a hallway. Salavanta's room is the last one at the end of the pathway. The wooden floor beneath her feet is rather nice, not too fancy but enough to drag the attention of others compared to the wooden floors of the rooms. When she takes a step forward, the combat boots clamp down on the floor as if threatening the wooden foundation. As she travels down the hallway she can hear through the occupied rooms. The inn is known to have rather thi

She hesitated to step into the inn at first but when the attendant walked out from the counter and invited them in, she changed her mind. “At least I can have a good shower,” Ann mutters below her breath. “Bonnie, meet Zira, she’s the one I ran into and she offered to help.” Bonnie couldn’t help but put up a fake smile as she said: “Nice to meet you Zira and thanks for helping us out.” “I’m delighted in helping. Please come with me, let me show you to your various rooms.” Zira led the way. The inn was built with logs throughout including the stairs. Climbing the stairs made a creaking sound. It’s nothing to worry about. The inn looks old but it’s quite maintained as best as they could.

Boots squeaked on the threshold; rainwater ran from her hem in thin, angry threads. “Traveler?” the innkeeper called from behind the bar, voice wary, as if he’d seen too many desperate people arrive with their stories already spilling out of them. “You look - ” “I need a room,” Elowen said, and hated how small her voice sounded beneath the roar of the storm. She didn’t ask for help. She didn’t look for pity. She only slid a pouch across the counter with fingers that refused to stop trembling. The innkeeper’s gaze flicked to the pouch, then to her face, then away - polite enough not to stare, careful enough to believe in consequences. “Only one left. Down the hall.”

Sensing his distraction, Cherry frowned and bit him hard. Evan hissed in pain, then grabbed her head and kissed her back just as hard. When they were done, Cherry buried her face against his chest, idly tracing circles with her fingers. “So, where are we going for dinner?” Evan paused. When he was with Ana, he never had to think about things like that. Every evening, when he came home from work, she would already have a table full of his favorite dishes waiting for him. When he did not answer, Cherry suggested, “Let’s go to that revolving restaurant downtown, the one with the Kobe beef. I hear the steak and the Lafite are both top-notch.”

After what seemed like forever, Antonio finally pulled away from me. As my mind wandered, I remembered the hidden passage, and I pointed toward the wedding photo on the wall, asking him, "How did you discover this?" Antonio pulled me into his arms, his hands gently moving over my body as he spoke. "On the first day I moved in, I accidentally broke that glass. That was when I discovered it. I couldn't believe my room was right next to yours, the room of the raunchy landlady." I froze when I heard his words.