It was a good day in Haven.
Through the open third-story window came the sounds of the city - the cries of travelling vendors peddling their goods, a pair of songbirds squabbling over a snack, the rattle of carts as they moved over the flagstones. A light breeze blew the indescribable smell of the city into the room – the smell of sweat, dung and food, overlaying the odd smell of hot stone, a sprinkling of womanly scent, leavened generously with perfume from the flowers growing on the tree right outside.
Most importantly, the window let in lots of light, light which fell upon a desk cluttered with papers. Secretary Ersand, in service to her majesty Selenay, Queen of Valdemar, sat at the desk, taking advantage of the light to tally up a long column of figures.
A knock sounded on the door, which creaked open. "Sir, a Master Alain is here, requesting to see you," his undersecretary said as he handed Ersand a form.
"Right on time. Hmm, application for a tavern and brewer's license… alright, send him in." Ersand heard the undersecretary's footsteps going down the stairwell, and continued tallying up the figures. He wrote the final sum at the bottom of the page, checked to see that it tallied with another sheet, before putting both aside just as Alain walked into the room.
Ersand's first thought, even as he stood up and extended his hand, was he's rather slim for a innkeeper, isn't he? Alain certainly did not fit his mental image of how innkeepers usually looked like. Slightly taller than him, but of a slim build, Alain looked like he was only in his late thirties. His hand, as Ersand shook it, was smooth except for pen-calluses, rather than the toughened hand that most barkeeps sported from hefting barrels.
They both sat down after preliminary pleasantries had been exchanged. The undersecretary appeared again with cups of tea, and they waited until he had left before getting down to business.
"So, Alain, I understand you wish to open a tavern?" Ersand inquired.
"Not a tavern, an inn." At Ersand raised eyebrow, Alain explained further "from what I understand of your language, a tavern is merely a place for people to drink. We wish to have rooms for guests to stay in, and which they may rent for other purposes as well. I believe that is called an 'inn'?"
"I see. You're not Valdemaran, are you?"
"No, I'm from Rethwellan, or thereabouts," Alain replied.
"Well if I might say so myself, your command of Valdemaran is excellent for a foreigner," Ersand complimented, causing Alain to give a small smile.. "So…not a problem, not a problem… your form does not list any stated address for your proposed business. Have you secured any location yet?"
"I did just yesterday, in fact. We – that is, my friends and I – purchased an old warehouse in the Merchant's district. We intend to demolish it and build our inn there."
"Alrigh... wait, you said an old warehouse?" Ersand was startled at the size of the land in question.
"Indeed. As you may surmise, we intend to build a rather large establishment."
"Indeed! Well, I don't see any objection to granting you the required licenses, provided you are able to pay the fees – you can settle that with my undersecretary on the way out." Ersand turned his attention to the parchment and quickly jotted down his approval in the appropriate space.
"You will also have to get approval for the building plan itself before I can – ah, I see you already have it," as he noted a seal on another parchment Alain silently held up. "In that case, give me a moment-" Ersand rummaged in a drawer and drew out his own seal, with a blue-wax candle flecked with silver. "Let me call for a flame…"
"Here," Alain stretched out his finger, and a small flame sprang into life atop it.
Ersand started violently back, and almost fell off his chair. "Is that…"
"Yes, it's magic. I have a bit of talent in that regard." Alain sounded slightly amused. "Pardon me. I forget that you of Valdemar are unused to Magery."
"I...we…um, yes. Right. Thank you." recovering his composure, Ersand lit his candle and let the wax drip onto the parchment. When a small blob had accumulated, he extinguished the flame affixed his own seal into the wax.
"You will need to wait awhile for the wax to set, I fear…"
"No need." Alain gently touched the wax, and it instantly hardened. He picked up the form, carefully placed it in a leather folder, and stood up.
"Pardon my haste, but I need to leave. I have many other matters I need to deal with today."
"Ah…yes, please don't let me detain you. Settle the required fees with my clerk by the door." Ersand managed to stammer out. As Alain was exiting the room, Ersand's curiosity overtook him and he asked "Sorry, if I might just ask – what will you be naming your inn?"
Alain paused and looked back over his shoulder with a small smile on his lips.
"The Blue Mountain."