The Inn

I start walking. The streets are almost deserted at this very late hour, and to my relief nobody tries to accost me. Fortunately the sky is free of cloud, and the moon provides just enough light for me to see where I am going. (There isn't any street lighting this far out from the city centre.)

I haven't travelled very far before I see a building with an inn-sign hanging over the door. At this time of night, that door is barred and the ground floor windows are shuttered, but after a minute or two my hammering on the door gets it opened, though initially only a few inches, with a chain preventing it from being opened any further. They evidently don't want to risk anyone forcing their way in.

An elderly man with a wispy grey beard scowls at me through the gap. "Whadja want?" he snarls.

"A room for the night, please. I can pay."

1. "All right. You must pay in advance." He unchains the door and lets me in. Inside, the place looks clean and well cared for.
2. "All right. You must pay in advance." He unchains the door and lets me in. Inside, the place is none too clean; the furniture is old and worn, and some of it is broken; and there is a lingering smell of pipe smoke.
3. "I bet you can. We don't want your sort here. This is a respectable establishment." He evidently assumes that only a streetwalker would be out at this late hour. The door slams shut and I hear the bar being put back in place.

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