***Cassius***
The village was small, just a handful of buildings clustered around a central square.
But it had an inn, and that was all that mattered.
We dismounted in front of a two-story building with a painted sign reading "The Wayward Traveler." Aldrik took both sets of reins without asking, leading the horses toward the stable while I grabbed our bags.
Inside, the common room was warm and smelled of roasted meat and bread. A few locals sat at tables nursing drinks, their conversations pausing briefly as we entered before resuming.
The innkeeper, a middle-aged woman with graying hair, looked up from wiping down the bar. "Welcome. Looking for a room?"
"Yes," Aldrik said, coming up beside me. "One room, please."
I glanced at him sharply, but he was already placing coins on the counter. The innkeeper took them and handed him a key.
"Second floor, end of the hall, dinner's still being served if you're hungry."
