Bunan stretched. Waking up early with a full bladder was not a pleasant experience.
Eyes still heavy with sleep, Bunan stumbled downstairs, swaying with each step. He'd had enough of this tavern; its rooms didn't even have chamber pots. Every time he needed to urinate, he had to run outside and endure the cold.
Luckily, it was morning. If it had been night, he would have gone mad.
He really didn't know how those damned Politicians put up with it. He certainly never wanted to visit this godforsaken place a second time.
He thought he had woken up quite early, but when he reached the foot of the stairs, he vaguely made out a blurry figure hunched over a tavern table. The figure looked like Mayor Babasha.
Can't this old codger sleep either? Starting his day drinking this tavern's cheap swill so early in the morning... How does he even manage to be a Politician?
