While You’re Under My Roof

“Eat. Then we’ll talk. No, not later. Now. You can’t listen properly on an empty stomach.”

— Mama Jori

Smell that? Bread, broth, and tea. Means morning’s come round again. Doesn’t matter what the clocks outside are doing — here, the day starts when the kitchen says it does. And the kitchen is me. Mama Jori.

Now, don’t look at me like that. You’re tired, you’re hungry, and you don’t even know how much. Sit down. Yes, there. No, don’t argue. I’ll make sure you eat something before you go wandering about asking clever questions.

That’s the trick of the Inn, you see. It feeds you what you need, not always what you think you want. You might not like it at first. You’ll thank me later.

So. You’re here now. You belong, whether or not you’ve caught up with that idea yet. The rest of this chapter will tell you how to get through your days without too much fuss: your room, the Taproom, paying your way, keeping your habits neat.

But first — finish your breakfast. Nothing useful happens on an empty stomach.

Rooms With Opinions

Your room was chosen for you. The Inn always knows best.

Treat it kindly. Don’t slam the door. Don’t complain about the wallpaper. If the bed moves in the night, it’s making space for you. Name your room if you like — they enjoy that.

And if your wardrobe knocks back when you close it? Just knock politely in return. That means you’re on good terms.

The Taproom’s Rhythm

Afternoons are quiet. Cards on the tables, books open, a low hum of voices. That’s the best time to rest, mend your clothes, or finally write that letter you keep putting off.

Evenings are rowdy. Laughter, songs, tall tales. Sometimes fists fly — and that’s all right. But draw steel or fling a spell, and you stop being a Patron. You become a problem. And problems get solved quickly, painfully, permanently.

Paying Your Way

The Inn accepts gold. Always.

What you hand over may look like coins, or paper, or something else entirely. Doesn’t matter. The Inn makes sense of it for you. Don’t think about it too hard. Pay when the bill comes due.

And no, you can’t haggle with me over supper.

Merchants and Other Oddities

Deliveries appear as they should. The cellars refill, the shelves stay stocked, and we don’t ask how.

But merchants wander in and out. Some are simple travellers. Others have too many pockets and too few explanations. You’ll rarely see the same one twice. If you find something useful, buy it while you can.

The Garden allows only two permanent workers: the blacksmith and the alchemist. The Inn decided they were better kept close than left to themselves. Don’t question it. You won’t like the answer.

As for your mounts — Jack runs the stables, and he’ll care for anything. Dragons, nightmares, stranger things. Your beast will probably like him more than you. Don’t take it personally. Everyone does.

If You Must Study

For those determined to prod at mysteries, there’s Seraphis.

She may help you. She may not. Depends if she thinks you’re adequate. Payment is knowledge for knowledge — books, memories, forgotten rites. If she likes you, she may give more than she takes. That doesn’t happen often.

Don’t waste her time. She won’t waste words on you if you do.

On the Maids

Yes, they’re Maids. You’ll see them serving and sweeping, carrying trays and pouring drinks.

But don’t mistake the uniforms for limits. They are Lars’s hands and the Inn’s shields. They’ll smile at you while deciding whether you’re worth keeping.

So be polite. Be grateful. Do as they say. And never forget: they serve dinner and end wars in the same breath.

Safety in Small Things

Eat when food is given. Rest when your room tells you to. Leave a chair pulled out in the Taproom — someone always needs it.

Little habits keep you safe. Call them superstitions if you like. I call them survival.

Final Thought

This is your life between doors. Meals, laughter, the comfort of routine. Quiet moments when the story pauses to catch its breath.

The Inn has claimed you. That means you belong. And until you believe it yourself — I’ll believe it for you.