There was a place in The Wandering Inn few people knew existed. Few people went there, even if they did know it was there.
Down the hallways that led up to the second floor, past the game rooms, the rec room, and yes, Erin had decided she needed both, the weights room, and even the bathing room, the wooden hallway branched right. If you kept going, you got to one of the private rooms, one of several entrances to the basement, and a closet, which held brooms and an emergency knife Numbtongue had placed on one of the shelves.
Walk a bit further, and you’d come to a suspiciously blank patch of wall that extended further than it should, with tiny ventilation holes. But there was no door, not even a hidden one, and there was only one room at the far, far end.
Even the drunk patrons of The Wandering Inn didn’t bother trying to explore that door, because it was locked and only a few people had the key. The door had a simple, chalkboard nameplate, which someone had neatly written an odd pair of words onto.