Locke VI

It was about an hour later. Locke and Alistair had finished acquainting themselves with the inn facilities. The Carbuncle Inn's upstairs consisted primarily of rooms and restrooms. Meanwhile, the downstairs consisted of the reception, and a large cosy lounge, complete with a darts board and other amenities such as a drinks bar for patrons. Locke made sure that it was worth the money.

The two were just walking down the stairs, when they came across the innkeeper haggling with a man.

"So, then... what was your name again? Ziard?" said the innkeeper, stumbling over his words.

"That's not quite right, friend. It's Zi-ad." The man who spoke seemed pleasant, and appeared somewhat used to this question, as if he was repeating a stock answer. He must get that a lot, Locke thought to himself.

The innkeeper trembled. "Oh I am so, so, so sorry! I didn't mean to offend you at all, sir! I hope you can forgive my apology! Here is your key, rooms are up the stairs" The man named Ziad simply waved him away, smiling all the while.

"Ah, it is alright. Humans always seem to mispronounce my name, it is of no consequence." It was at this point that Ziad noticed Locke and Alistair as they moved down the stairs. Ziad nodded an acknowledgement, and Locke nodded back.

Locke spent this brief time to get a proper look at this man. Well, he's clearly an Akim, thought Locke, the trademark leathered skin would tell you that. Locke also noticed the relative dishevelment of the Akim. His head-scarf appeared dusty and worn, as if it had seen many a journey. His eyes were friendly, yet nonetheless displayed the telltale signs of a traveler. Locke knew what to look for.

"You're an explorer aren't you?" Locke inquired.

"Why yes, I am, thank you asking. How could you tell?" Ziad inquired back, intrigued by this stranger.

"Oh, I have my ways. Locke Cromwell, it's a pleasure to meet you Ziad." Locke made sure to pronounce his name properly, an effort that visibly impressed the Akim.

"It is a pleasure to meet you as well, honestly you are one of the few humans here to be able to correctly pronounce my name. And who is this child?" Ziad gestured over to Alistair, who has so far been content with looking at this strange man with obvious amazement. They moved into the inn's lounge, a better location to converse. Locke poured Ziad and himself a drink.

"This is Alistair, he's the son of one of my close friends. I'm, well..., I'm taking him to see the Queen's Festival. He's always wanted to see it."

"Yes, someone told me about the Queen's Festival when I arrived here earlier today. It is a truly fascinating event." Ziad could not help but notice Alistair's gaze. Speaking more quietly, "I cannot help but notice your friend's son is... glaring at me. Did I offend him?"

Locke responded immediately. "Alistair, stop gazing at the poor man." The boy did as he was told, and began leafing through the embarrassingly book collection the innkeeper displayed on a bookshelf. Locke turned his attention back to Ziad. "Don't mind him. Where he lives, he has hardly ever seen an Akim before. He's just curious."

Ziad seemed content with the response. They continued talking for several minutes, moving through the small talk people inevitably engage with when they meet someone for the first time. However, it flowed smoothly, both Locke and Ziad happy with the flow of the conversation. This Ziad fellow has some amazing adventuring stories, Locke thought.

Ziad pointed at the darts board. "What say you and me throw a few darts?"

"I like your style, Ziad," Locke said casually.

Game on.​