"The Fabulating Fox." Jaskier chuckled slightly and shook his head. "What a strange name. Taverns should bait visitors with their names and make clear, what it's all about. Something along the lines of: The Drunkard's Rotgut or The Red Winebarrel or ..."
"The Hairy Bear?" Geralt suggested grinning.
"Yah, point made. That's a bad example," Jaskier admitted after a short hesitation. "That sounds like a brothel."
"It has been one," Geralt hummed.
"Oh?! How do you know? When was that? I didn't know about that!" Jaskier was as keen as mustard.
"Hhmmmpff, that was before you. Long time ago."
Geralt and Jaskier had dismounted and lead their horses in two boxes of the clean and well equipped stable, unsaddled and made sure they were looked after.
With the saddle bags on their shoulders, the two travel companions entered the tavern.
The lavish room seemed clean, in order and in a cosy way welcoming.
Tables, chairs and benches were spread generously, a cheery fire crackled in the fireplace and the glowers on the walls would, in the late hours of a day, provide a snug light.
"Welcome to The Fabulating Fox, gentlemen. Step closer. I am Fenneka. What may I help you with?"
"Eeerh ..." Jaskier looked around, puzzled. Geralt preventively stayed quiet. "Is this an actual tavern? Like, with food and drink and staying overnight?"
"Yes, for you it is, gentlemen. You can rest your tired limbs and relax. You're horses are already taken care of or shall I send someone?"
"Eeerh ..." Jaskier still was obviously baffled. Geralt preventively stayed quiet. "The horses are taken care of."
"Well,"Fenneka smiled, seemingly glad about the bafflement of her new guests. "How many rooms? Two single rooms or rather a cosy, highly recommended double room?"
"Eerh ..." Jaskier blinked frantically.