It was a short trip up the stairs into the Whistling Inn. It was owned by the same family, but the employee was of no relation. The innkeeper was a pudgy, dirty, woman dressed in dull colored rags with scraggly hair like a pine broom. Hildagard mumbled some Flash Lingo beneath her breath that Ellie barely understood. The elf-girl just payed the woman with Alek's silver pounds from his cloak pockets. She always spent his money.

When they arrived into the room, Ellie's face twisted into shocked horror. It was so dirty! There was dust caked on every inch of the furniture and motes flying around in the stale air. The bedding on the single bed was rumpled as if someone had slept in it that very morning. Molding bread laid on the lopsided table with a withered apple and a mostly burned candle. There was an awful smell coming from the corner of the room, hidden behind a curtain. It sort of smelled like...

"Window! Someone open a window!" Ellie gasped as she trotted over to the single window. She pushed the table out of the way and tugged on the sill. It was not going to budge. That was obvious from the way nails stuck out from the tracks of the window. It was probably to deter those who used "credit" from leaving without paying the keeper.

Ellie made desperate sounds of needing fresh air.

"Alek! Fresh... air! Please," she cried, breaking out into sobs as she weakly pounded against the window panes.