The large room had nothing but straw mats. After Ian had Rollo push most of them into a corner, he went outside to bring in a table and three stools.
The conditions were rough—so rough that Ian suspected the mats hadn't been replaced in years.
But that wasn't all that surprising. This place was meant for peasants traveling between nearby villages and the castle. One night only cost a single copper penny—less than an eighth of a regular room. It was practically free, and people who didn't mind free tended to have high tolerance for discomfort.
After all, if you had money, you'd get a private room.
Of course, Ian hadn't chosen this big shared space to save money. He simply felt safer sharing a room with two knights.
What he didn't want to admit was that the shadows of the battle and slaughter in the salt mine still hadn't faded.
Once they finished setting everything up, the innkeeper Martha arrived at the door of Ian's room.
"Ser, your food is ready." She sounded exhausted. Ian figured she wasn't too happy about being dragged out of bed in the middle of the night to cook.
"Come in," Ian replied, not caring whether Martha was upset or not. He only cared about her cooking—praised in the original storyline by Catelyn Tully—and the inn's malt beer, once complimented by Tyrion Lannister himself.
After all, a long day of travel had left him utterly drained and starving.
At his invitation, Martha and two serving girls pushed open the heavy door and entered.
Soon, a hearty meal of whole grain bread, potatoes with bacon, onion and beef stew, roast lamb, grilled quail, and malt beer was set before him.
Ian didn't start gorging right away. Instead, he looked at Martha, who hadn't left the room with her maids.
"Sers…"
"We won't be needing any… extra services, thank you. You can rest now." Ian cut her off, having a pretty good idea what she was about to ask.
But Martha shook her head quickly. "No, that's not what I meant. Apologies, ser."
"Relax. Just say it." Ian set down his fork and looked at her.
"Thank you, ser," Martha nodded gratefully and took a breath. "You're knights of House Lannister, aren't you?"
"Yes," Ian replied directly. Since he had already dealt with all the mercenaries from the Karmel Company, he saw no need to drop the disguise. He didn't even bother hiding the lion-headed longsword that bore the family crest.
Martha had probably seen it and drawn her conclusion from there.
Hearing Ian's confirmation, her face lit up with a smile, revealing teeth stained red from years of chewing sourleaf. "So you came from King's Landing?"
"What makes you think that?" Ian tore a leg from the grilled quail, taking a bite as he asked.
"Heh, I've run this place for years. I've seen knights from all over the Seven Kingdoms," Martha said, pointing at Rollo. "That black armor he's wearing, with the intricate engravings—that's the style of King's Landing or Highgarden. And you're Lannister knights. King's Landing's practically half-Lannister these days, so I figured you must've come from there."
"Smart guess. You're right. I'm Ser Lucian Lannister, and these are my men," Ian said, raising an eyebrow while chewing, then washing it down with a hearty gulp of stew. "So, is there something you wanted from us?"
"Well, ser, if you're not in a hurry to move on…"
"Conveniently, we're not." Ian nodded right away. His gut told him this was going to trigger a side quest.
And just so happened, he wanted to test exactly how side quests were triggered.
According to the developers, once the game went live, they wouldn't interfere in any way—which meant quests were most likely automatically generated when NPCs asked players for help, based on some pre-set logic.
In a world this immersive, if that logic could be reverse-engineered, then Ian—former quest designer—knew for sure: bugs could be exploited.
Of course, that would have to wait until he'd figured out the full system.
For now, he just wanted to test the simplest question—Would a quest always trigger if an NPC asked a player for help?
"So," Ian leaned forward, "what can I help you with?"
"Well, Ser Lucian, recently there's been a group of bandits roaming nearby. They raid and rob without mercy. Their hideout's near the ruins of Old Whitewall, so we call them… the Ghosts of Whitewall."
Ian repeated the name in his head—Ghosts of Whitewall—but came up empty. He had never heard of such a group, not in the original lore or any spin-off material.
"So you've heard of them?"
"Never," Ian shook his head. "But I assume you want us to help get rid of them?"
Roving bandits, Ian smirked inwardly. What medieval fantasy game didn't have a good old 'wipe out the bandits' quest? This was textbook filler content (strikethrough: grind).
"No," Martha shook her head. "It's not me. Actually, it's Ser Vield and the others."
"The others?"
"They're landed knights from around here. They've formed an alliance and are the ones who need help."
"You mean, to deal with these bandits, the local landed knights actually formed an alliance?" Ian asked, puzzled.
"No, the alliance has always existed. But yes, this time, they've come together specifically to handle the Ghosts of Whitewall."
"How many are there?"
"Seven landed knights in total—Ser Vield, Ser Veery, Ser Kahn, and others. Along with their squires and retainers."
That was beyond what Ian had expected. If the original story never mentioned these "Ghosts," then he figured they'd be a small, forgettable gang. He thought Martha would just hand him a side quest, he'd hire some mercs, and the matter would be settled.
He hadn't expected the local nobles to form a coalition over it.
"Well, if they've already gathered so many knights, why come to us?" Ian asked, a bit speechless.
"Ser Vield is concerned he still doesn't have enough men. He asked me to keep an eye out for any trustworthy outland knights passing through, hoping you might be willing to help."
"Outland knights…" Ian's eyes narrowed slightly.