The internal turmoil

After finishing his meal and settling his tab, Jaegar asked the barmaid about lodgings. She directed him to a nearby inn, nothing fancy but clean and affordable. It was all he needed.

The inn was a squat, two-story building with peeling paint and a slightly crooked sign. The innkeeper, a portly man with a bushy moustache, eyed Jaegar warily as he entered.

"I'm looking for a room," Jaegar said, approaching the counter.

The innkeeper grunted. "Two silvers a night, breakfast included."

Jaegar nodded, counting out the coins from his dwindling purse. The room key he received was heavy and slightly rusted, but it would do. He climbed the creaking stairs to the second floor, finding his room at the end of a narrow hallway.