The Flying Emporium

Even after the innkeeper had stopped one of her patrons from causing any more trouble, Severin still had to be a bit more patient until he could have his conversation with Milly.

First he had to wait for the other guests to leave. That included a certain dwarf who was suddenly very intent on renting a room for the night, despite living just a few houses away.

Only then, when Milly had turned the man away and instructed her son to some cleanup duty in the kitchen, did the groggy elf tap herself an ale and sat down with the only two other remaining people.

“What’s going on? I thought business had picked up.” Severin didn’t beat around the bush. “Especially after the two had been here,” with this he was referring to the meeting between Rich, one of the Games’ most shining stars, and Samuel, one of the old-guard of Malcos’ adventurers.

“It did. But that was during the Games. Which was basically an eternity ago,” the woman answered unperturbed by Severin’s blunt question; though they hadn’t spent all that much time together in the past, the rapport they had built was good enough to be comfortable with such questions.

Severin didn’t know what kind of answer he had expected and didn’t immediately know how to respond to the answer, but before things got awkward, the innkeeper all but jumped at the opportunity to vent some of her built-up frustration.

“Those classbearers from back then just have no reason to come here anymore.”

Severin quickly understood what Milly meant by this. While this inn was certainly well maintained and cared for, it was not the kind of establishment the kind of people who could-simply by virtue of being classbearers- afford to spend several months worth of a regular person’s salary, in a single night, would frequent; back then it was only because every establishment in the city had been fully booked during those busy days.

“Well, it had gotten a bit better lately. Not least thanks to you, I assume.”

This time Severin wasn’t quite as quick to catch the meaning of her words. It took him a moment to understood what she was referring to. Namely to the portal he had established because of more adventurers than ever would decide to spent their nights in the city, and return to the wilderness only the next morning. The demand for a comfortable inn must’ve risen accordingly.

Even so, not all of this made sense to Severin.

“But with all the money you made during the Games...,” Severin started to voice his doubts Severin but didn’t finish the sentence. Despite their understanding and Milly’s willingness to entertain his questions so far, butting into her actual financial affairs was crossing some kind of line.

On the other hand, he genuinely felt the matter had to be addressed. Even just the money she had made during those few days, he understood, should have been enough to further expand and upgrade the building, and even to hire some people to work for her on top of that.

Not to mention that nothing account explained the striking absence of regular, non-classbearing people-the locals-visiting the inn’s bar.

Though apprehensive as not to overstep, he ultimately still voiced his thoughts.

“Well, first of all the windfall that was the Games wasn’t exclusive to us. So it's not like we could just buy ourselves an easy advantage over our competitors and call it a day. Especially not once you already have a certain reputation; those tend to stick. And not with a hefty debt to pay off for the hasty rebuild. I mean, with the fire and all that.”

“The fire?” Mylana butted into the conversation when she realized Severin wasn’t asking the followup question she expected.

Because he still vaguely remembered; already back then during his first visit there had been mentions of a fire. In fact, he also remembered, that this day he had visited Milly’s inn, had also been the one of their reopening. Which explained why everything appeared to be in such great condition when the surrounding buildings did look anything but.

Severin explained as much whereas Milly just listened and absentmindedly nodded in confirmation to his words.

“But what about the regular folk?” Mylana then inquired after the same question was previously ignored.

“Well that’s the real issue, I guess” for the first time the elf didn’t just look, but actually sounded exhausted. “As it turns out it is quite easy for classbearers to intimidate regular folk. At this point Gorik might actually be the only real regular we still have left.”

“Classbeares?” Mylana asked incredulously. “Intimidating regular people? Here in Hanvia? Who would dare?!”

“The same people who would burn down a small family run inn, I guess” the elf answered bitterly.

“What?!”

Severin had been shocked by this revelation, but not nearly as much as by Mylana suddenly jumping up from her chair and flying into a fit of rage.

“Just who-?!” she demanded loudly. But Milly simply cut her off, shaking her head and pointing towards the back of the inn. Seeing this reaction, it initially seemed Mylana had calmed down; she stopped making a fuss and sat down again.

But clearly her anger hadn’t receded just yet.

“Who would threaten your patrons? Any why?” Mylana again demanded, this time more quietly, careful that none of her words reached the boy working in the back.

Yet Milly remained adamant, with a tired smile being the only answer to this question the two guests would receive this night. Clearly the woman was not willed to discuss the topic with them any further.

‘Maybe for fear of retribution’, Severin suspected. With this in mind, he wanted to tell Milly that there was nothing to worry about. He was well connected now, and this didn’t sound like a problem he couldn’t easily solve; with a literal princess at his ready, who would dare oppose them in this city?

But just when he opened his mouth and was about to speak, he felt a hand on his knee under the table; looking at the owner of said hand, he received a poignant look.

Given that Mylana had been even more agitated than himself, the interrupted came at a surprise. Still, Severin took the hint and kept his mouth shut. By know he understood well that the hag wasn’t one to let go of such matters once they caught her attention; knowing this he put the most burning questions to the back of his mind and hold his tongue, but didn’t worry about this matter not being resolved in the future.

Instead it was the innkeeper who spoke up.

“Well, you guys aren’t here to listen to me complaining anyway. So what can I do for you? I heard something about an offer?” with that she had given Severin the perfect opening to make his pitch.

But by now much of Severin’s eagerness had already dissipated. It had turned into a bad conscience and shame.

Initially he had been somewhat excited by the current state of affair. Not because he wished the woman ill or because he begrudged her of her success. But because he figured it would make his proposal all the more attractive.

Now he felt horrible for those previous thoughts and felt like he was preying on the family’s misfortune.

He consciously had to remind himself that ultimately this didn’t change anything. Milly’s circumstances didn’t influence the offer he wanted to make in any shape or form. In fact, Severin felt his offer was fair, generous even.

“Would you be willing to work for me?” he finally asked after his short hesitation.

“Me?” Unlike Mylana who had more than enough time and opportunity to figure out what this was all about, to Milly this sudden offer came out of nowhere.

“You want me to work for you? On that mountain? Why? Or rather where? I know you don’t have an inn up there. I know that for a fact. Otherwise I fear we would’ve gone under a long time ago.

So no. We might be desperate, but I won’t be-”

“We don’t have an inn yet” Severin put special emphasis on the last word as he interrupted Milly who continued undeterred.

“-working in someone else’s kitchen or behind some counter if that is what you think. This inn-” suddenly she halted.

“What do you mean, not yet?” she pointed almost accusatory at a smiling Severin.