The wing Pyre was staying in was labeled as the “wizard’s wing”. The inn owner had described it as a way for wizards to stay a pro-long amount of time and leave at odd hours but not disturb the more normal guests.
The staircase itself was also slightly odd, just like the rest of the building. It’s stairs were wood, but every creak gave off at least a pound of dust along with the groaning of the wood. There were walls on either side of anyone walking down or up, and the stairwell was skinny, with little room to move to the side if others walked by. There was a sconce every once in awhile that gave the stairs a darker casting. Pyre felt like the walk could probably take forever, but in reality’s it was only a couple of feet.
The main lobby had a large greeting desk with a tiny old lady behind it at the moment. Over the desk, on the wall, large gold letters spelled out “North Wood inn.” The rest of the lobby filled with o old chairs that resembled wooded forests. And the tabletops we’re made of glass with tiny coasters to rest your coffee on. As he walked out the door onto orchidia streets the old lady at the desk perked up and chased out after, calling his name. Surprised that she knew his name Pyre turned around. The old lady slowed, she was tired from such a short run. “You’re Pyre right? Someone wanted me to give you this letter.” She said. Pyre raise date an eyebrow. That way and soightly odd. He was very curious.
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