Chapter 402: Arc 6, - 18: Wensteter Village
A few lamp lighters were going about the village, lighting up the streetlamps of black metal. The dirt path expanded even more till it was cobble. A very low stone wall flanked around a gap—the entryway for the village it seemed.
The wooden post that had grown white mushrooms hung a sign that swayed, "Wensteter Village," Hotaru read. Dusk was upon them as farmers drove small carts with a single steed.
Fields of yet to mature wheat sprouted dark greens going pale. The five walked further in where white squarish buildings with timber frames and thatch roofs resided.
Children covered in dirt, sweat and random grasses and weeds that stuck to their clothes were running, clearly to not get in trouble for missing curfew. With the day coming to an end, mirth and life seemed to spring by the evening.
Florists and bakers were beginning to close and yet taverns lit up their lamps signalling the people to get into line. Various names shouted out back and forth—a conversation was always happening wherever they traipsed.
They would give a side-eye or examine the adventurers walking into their midst, but they paid no mind really. "Too bad you charred those slimes, their cores could’ve been sold," Hotaru remarked as they walked towards the nearest inn.
Jotou silently side-eyed her while walking upfront. Cramming through the door they entered the weathered interior.
It was not rundown, but ’rustic’ was a charming way to put it, what with the mushrooms on the wooden girders and the limited space and selections of alcohol on the wall.
Two scantily dressed barmaids were quick on their feet, trays in their hands with a sundry of containers ranging from glass jars to wooden mugs. Ten or so tables were fully occupied and others were by the bar.
"How much for a room and how much space?" Hotaru placed her elbow on the tavern keepers’ small desk.
A man with a few stains on his sleeveless shirt yawned, bald on top and a curling moustache he had. "Depends how much ye wanna stuff in the same room lass," he gruffly replied.
"You can get your own room, I’d like one to myself," Jotou crossed her arms and examined the shelves of booze.