Although many of its residents denied it, The Ald Skar inn in Ald Ruhn was not without its fair share of mysteries. Ancient tales told of spirits that would walk the lower level at midnight, victims of the Heartfire Massacre. A tragedy had occurred there many years ago, yet the Inn still bore scars.

Mayikte was not one for such a tale. After serving what he considered a respectable amount of time in the Imperial Garrison (Three Days) He had decided to leave and pursue his own dreams in life. These were pretty linear, and were usually decided on the spot.

It was time for one of those spur of the moment decisions that Mayikte had become infamous for. It was time to rent a room, and kick some ass.

Or so he thought.

The not so loveable rogue stepped across the threshold of the inn and swaggered up to the bartender, who was fruitlessly attempting to remove a purple stain from a mug that had seen better days.

The Ald Skar Inn's décor was interesting, at best. Most placed followed the trend of the odd mounted bear head on the wall, and a roaring fire, while this Inn was clearly in need of a touch up. The wallpaper that had been carelessly thrown up against the walls was peeling away rapidly, trailing down to a floor riddled with broken tiles and the odd slipper, oddly enough.

As Mayikte approached the bartender, he raised his eyebrows and suddenly forgot completely about the mug he was cleaning.

'Good evening,' Mayikte sneered amidst the sound of breaking glass.

'Oh, shit-, uh…hallo, there sonny!' Replied the bartender, as he bent down to pick up the pieces of what was once his prize mug. 'A room, then? Or maybe a brew?'

'Both, if you could manage it,' Mayikte replied, adding a touch of charm to his voice this time. It worked.

'Certainly!' The bartender, said, taking a ledger out of one of the draws which appeared to shoved into the counter at a 45 degree angle. He scribbled out a few artificial guests to the list- just in case an inspector showed up and wanted to know if anyone even visited this place- and looked up at Mayikte with a big grin on his face.

'Ah, a room…well, room four is free…and room five for that matter…oh, and room six, fancy that!'

'Spare me the theatrics, Inkeep.' Mayikte snapped, 'I know full well that you only have two rooms and one of them is the cupboard under the flippin' stairs!'

The bartender blushed.

'Right, well, that is right, I suppose, know, where were we? Oh, yes! Number one, then?'

'Yes, and do remove your shipment crates of scrib jelly before relinquishing the key, if you don't mind,'

The bartender nodded frantically.

'Yes! Yes, and yes again, Sir! I will attend to it right away,' He turned to leave, but then seemed to change his mind, 'Oh, by the way, Sir,' he added, leaning over the counter, 'May I ask…how did you know about that scrib jelly, eh?'

Mayikte sighed.

'Well, partly because you are carrying in your left pocket a scrap of paper that states…and I quote… "Dear Boss. I got your…jello…I'll stick it room one,'

The bartender glanced down at his apron and blushed.

'Right. Yes. Um…room one, then, was it?'