You are the proprietor of “The Wandering Inn”, a tavern and guest house that appears sporadically to travellers in different worlds across the multiverse. You keep a journal on all of the weird, wonderful and disturbing visitors you’ve fed and lodged.
Welcome to the Wandering Inn.
I slowly polish the tankard with a trained weariness, watching the creature stoop down to fit through the door. It's roughly humanoid, 10 feet tall hunched over as it is and skinny as all hell. Skeletal, almost, except I can see the pale, purplish skin stretched tight over the bone as a long arm emerges from the depths of its cloak to brush off some snow. The hood casts a much deeper shadow than it rightfully should, completely obscuring the creature's face, but I don't mind too much. A lot of my patrons value their privacy and, as long as they don't make any trouble for me or the other guests, they're welcome to it.
The creature looked around the room. It had been a slow night. Presently, the grand dining area was practically deserted, with only three occupants. Two humans that weren't quite right sat with wide eyes and sallow faces in the armchairs by the fire. The warm glow of the flames did not reach their bodies, flowing around them like water. In one of the corner tables, by a window, sat a curious three-legged bird-like creature with a beautiful dark blue plumage, streaked with flashes of orange and purple. She had been alternating between looking out through the window whenever we changed location and pecking at the complimentary nuts in the small bowl at the table. A soft, alarmed squak marked her acknowledgement of the newcomer.
And other than that, it was empty. The planks on the floor gleamed from where the barmaid, a reptilian woman I had hired from a cold land of magic, mountains, forests and dragons, had polished them to a shine earlier. I'd given her the rest of the night off and she'd gone back to her room. I hadn't seen the point of lighting up the grand chandelier either, so the fire and a few small lamps were the only source of illumination, casting long shadows on the wooden walls. The place was dark, quiet and calm, just how I liked it.
The creature that had come in finished it's search of the room and approached the counter with a heavy gait, it's clawed feet tapping against the floor. It moved quicker than I would've imagined, long legs carrying it across the space in a few strides. And then it stood over me, staring down from across the bar. I carefully placed the tankard back on its shelp. "Hey, fella, welcome to the Wandering Inn," I grinned, looking up into the shadows beneath the hood and pulling out a heavy, leather bound book. This was my journal, a wealth of knowledge to rival the most arcane and forbidden of tomes sealed away in forgotten vaults. But instead of devestating spells or tales of eldritch horrors, it contained a comprehensive list of every guest I'd ever had. Sorted by giving everyone an nine-digit number based on their date of visit (I decided to conform to earth time, kept by three clocks and my pocket watch and checked every time we happened to be there) and the order they came in through the doors that day. It had everything on my patrons - my description and thoughts on them, some rough sketches, as well as their names, species and lands of origin if they were able to give them once we got to talking.
So maybe a few tales of eldritch horrors, fine.
"How can I help ya?" The question was as natural to me as breathing by now. I set down the book and flipped it open to around halfway and wrote down it's number below the previous entry, that of the bird-woman. The creature merely looked at me and tilted its head in question.
Ah. One of those.
"Take a seat, I'll get you something to drink," I said, closing the book and gesturing towards one of the stools that now seemed perfectly sized for the big guy. I turned around to the kegs on the back wall, pulled up a flagon and started filling it up. The drink that flowed was different for everyone. All I knew was that everyone liked it and that it didn't run out. Asking questions beyond that just felt like asking for trouble. Right now, the liquid was a deep crimson, which was mildly concerning, mostly because blood, if that was what it was, would stain the wood. "Where about you from?" I asked as I brought the drink to the counter and pulled up a tankard for him. The creature gestured over its shoulder and emitted a strange, chittering sound. I looked past it at the frigid tundra just visible in the night's gloom through the window, a snowstorm blotting most visibility out.
"Looks... homey. Lived here long?"
The creature shrugged as it picked up the drink and leaned down to sip for it.
"And looking to head someplace new, I suppose? Heh, pretty standard fare. Fair warning, these journeys can be pretty long and the inn is strangely quiet for today. Might want to sleep through it." I tossed my head towards the stairs leading to the rooms above. The creature didn't shift from its spot.
"Fair enough."
I stood in silence for a moment.
"I had a demigod in here once."
The creature looked up.
"Yeah, someone related to the god of time. Which makes some sense, I suppose, because I'm pretty sure it's old Father Time who set up this Inn in the first place. You ever seen a gravitational anomaly order a pint? It was a unique experience."
Another pause and then a long continuous series of high pitched noises. It took me a moment to realise that it was laughing. That was progress. I had known that it understood me. For whatever reason, within the Inn, there had never been any language barriers, to the extent of partial translation though some specific or context-sensitive words would slip through in the native speech. But, by and large, everyone could make sense of everyone else. It was just a matter of breaking through the shell.
"Aye, tipped me by opening a savings account in my name fifty years ago."
The noise grew louder.
"Figured that if that sort of cash kept coming in, I was comfortable right here." I paused to allow the creature to quite down. "Yeah. On that note, how come you're here?"
The creature cocked its head in consideration. It then spoke in a slow, halting speech that I could only describe as 'chitinous'. Like a hundred angry hornets in the far distance, there was a faint buzz to it. "Leaving home. Leaving the war. Ukhta now. Can't go back. Other places better."
"Ukhta?"
"Outsider. No... forbidden?" The creature considered again. "Outcast. Traitor. Been moving for long time now. I trust. They betray. I move on. I go back home, they send me to die fighting in the M'sri. The dark below. Enemy home. Death sentence, none come back. So, I decide... somewhere else. Somewhere... with new rules."
I nodded. I got plenty of people in here who were running. Running from death. Running from the past. Running towards what they could only hope was better than what was behind. I always felt a bit sorry for them. They weren't like the ones who had a mission or even the wanderers. They were just scared, aimless, a question mark over their existence. And if your answer lay in another dimension, I couldn't help but feel that that was no answer at all.
But hey, one can hope. And, while they're hoping, they can enjoy a nice drink, a warm fire and clean sheets.
Welcome to the Wandering Inn.
