Jack and Melinda lay upon the large but creaking bed. Jack attempted to suppress his germaphobia from acting up. Melinda had thoroughly cleaned the room and bedsheets multiple times yet couldn't remove the yellowing of the sheets nor the peculiar stains from the floorboards. Having been hospital-bound on modern Earth, Jack wondered how anyone could settle for these awful living conditions.
He was staying at the most prestigious inn the town had to offer, yet there were no toilet facilities except for a crude bucket in the far corner—not that he needed them, but Melinda certainly did. The building was poorly constructed with rusty nails jutting from the floorboards; the room was drafty, and cold winter winds whirled through cracks in the walls like a screaming banshee. He had bought out the entire inn for only a single silver coin. The innkeeper tried to give him the room for free, but he wished to win the population's support and keep nasty rumours to a minimum.
