Hesitantly, you push open the heavy door of the only inn left in town... (Patreon)

​​The portly master of the house is standing directly behind it, waiting to pounce. He must have been watching out of one of the grubby windows and spied you coming up the street. His face already prepared with an obsequious smile, he reaches out his chubby hands to grab at you in an apparently helpful yet decisively firm manner, pulling you inside and across the hearth... 
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​WELCOME! Welcome! Come in! Come in! Let me take that heavy bag. Come in out of the cold! Let the boy take care of your horse! BOY!! Welcome to my humble establishment. It’s not every day we get a right proper guest such as yourself! I’m the innkeeper. Although usually it’s just "Innkeep!" Yes, that’s what they yell at me, that worthless lot over yonder. "Bring me more wine!" Well, let ‘em yell! They’ve damn near emptied half a barrel today already! Not that I’m complainin mind. But my poor feet! Running here, running there…

You​ only half heed his attempt at disarming babble as you slowly walk across the floor of the common room, blinking your eyes as you adjust to the gloom. The place smells of sweat, smoke, and stale ale. And under that, is it... piss? A few dour locals occupy a table near the fire, which is sputtering fitfully.​

But I do go on! Been long on the roads have you? Well good that you’re safe. Nasty business these days. Nasty business indeed! Come this way and take a seat. Yes, we all thought the war would be done and finished long ago. And now things have started to get short. First beef. Then bread. Now it’s got such that some days I can barely scrap together a decent meal for a fine guest such as yourself. Ah, but don’t you be worrying about that! I have my ways and means. ​Oh yes indeed. 

You notice ​the innkeeper's gaze resting on your hand. He pauses his patter for a moment.

​​​And that’s a mighty fine ring you’re wearing if you don’t mind me saying so. Gold, is it? Lovely indeed. ​

​Sensing your discomfort, he then deftly changes tack, returning to his usual verbal barrage.

​​​Truly you’re more ‘n a step above the usual turnip sellers and tinkers that blow through these parts. And don’t get me started about the soldiers. They’ll be requisitioning the breeches from my backside next. And dear lord save us from bragging, trouble-making “adventurers.” Little better than glorified grave robbers if you ask me, taking advantage of the troubles to loot the old burrows ‘n such as they please. Well I suppose their coin is as good as any, even if I can’t recognize the old faces stamped on em! Now let me find my quill and put you down for our best room. 

​The innkeeper ​​takes out a crusty old book from under the counter, licks his finger, and flips over the pages. You're apprehensive as to just how good the "best room" could be, but there's nowhere else to go.​

​​​I’ll have some proper good linen and nice hot water sent up later. You can get a sound forty winks before you carry on your way in the morrow. Oh, and if you hear anything at night don’t pay it any mind! The building is old and creaky. Now let me fetch you some of our best wine. And I do forget! A bard will be here before sundown to play us a little music. Come and join the other guests when you eat. I’ve saved up a few good tales and jests that would be wasted on those louts over there. YES YES! COMING! Mercy. Where is that lad? BOY! I swear I should put that idle sack of bones back on the street where I found him…

Tonight you think you'll sleep with some furniture wedged across the door and your hand on your dagger. But the idea of some proper music does sound enticing. And maybe you can have just one drink while you listen for a while.