It was still quite early in the day, and what crowds might be expected for lunch had not yet filled the common room.
The inn and pub were well-known institutions within the Mouth, and only it's long history within the city itself accounted for it's oddly placed foundation. Nestled among the noble, towering spires of the great architectural achievements of the city's public center, the large inn seemed almost...squat and primitive. But the interior was anything but: dark mahogany wood lined the walls giving The Flying Dortman Tavern a dim but cozy atmosphere. The thick leaded glass filtered what sun made it past the heavy red brocaded curtains, now faded with age but not threadbare. A large ornately carved bar ran nearly the length of one wall, worn with handling but still kept highly polished. Behind the bar a soft colorful fresco depicting Pecunia and her followers had been painted, a sharp contrast with the deep rich wood that dominated the rest of the room.
Behind the bar stood a pair of men, both wearing fine buff coats with frilled, billowing sleeves and broad grins as they chatted and laughed with their patrons. And patrons there were: the taproom was large, and much of it was unoccupied at the moment, but that still left quite a few people milling about at tables, booths, or just standing near the hearth. The smell of pipe smoke and food filled the air, and the floor, different from most wayside inns, was of polished wood that, while well worn, was sturdy as ever.
A smart looking bartender wearing the same flamboyant, well designed clothes so common in the Mouth looked up and welcomed newcomers with a rather curious inspection. "Good day to you, traveller. How may I help?" He asked.
Sinking back into the coach seat as she journeyed through World’s Mouth Dandini gazed out of the window with a look of awe struck wonder. Every now and again she would see something that caught her attention and determine to come back for a closer look later. The truth was more likely to be once it was past it would be quicker forgotten in favour of the next thing that grabbed her attention.
When the coach finally arrived at the Flying Dortman the young exotic blonde had grown bored of the uncomfortable jolting motion of the coach. Now she longed for comfort … a fine soft bed, a glass of rich red wine and something delicate and finely fragranced to eat.
Confident that the coach driver would get her chest inside, and determined she wouldn’t pay him till he did, Dandini wandered into the inn itself. She approved of the heavy brocaded curtains and delighted in the strangely exotic rendering of some goddess or other behind the bar.
When the bartender smiled and spoke to her the blonde beamed a sparkling smile back at him. She was thrilled to be called a traveller!
“And good day to you, barkeep. I should like to take a room. Something suitable with a big soft bed stuffed with soft downy feathers – it doesn’t matter about the colour.†In the girls mind there were numerous identical rooms furnished to her exact standards in varying hues and shades just awaiting her inspection. “And in the meantime I’d care for food and wine. What’s the speciality of the house … mind you I would like something that is typically World’s Mouth. There’s no point travelling so far and not trying the local cuisine now is there?â€
Glancing back at the door she suddenly recalled the coach driver. “Oh yes, and when the man comes in with my luggage have him take it up to my room would you.†Pausing for breath she looked around the inn, measuring the clientele, booths and the empty tables. “Should I just sit where I please?†It was the first question she had, for all her attitude it was the first time she’d actually been in an inn on her own before.