Keeper of the Forest Inn

Einar, now in his late fifties, was a man who had long walked the paths of adventure. His faded blonde hair, thinned at the top with a bald patch in the center, gave him a weathered look, and his body, once hardened from years of battle, had softened over time. He was a friendly sort, his easy demeanor masking a life lived on the edge. He’d discovered The Forest Inn after years of traveling, and it quickly became more than just a place to rest. The inn had secrets—chief among them, Manannán’s Door.

One evening, Einar returned from one of his adventures, the door creaking open behind him. The icy wind howled as snow swirled through the portal. He hurried inside, slamming the door shut and shaking off the cold.

“Gah, I appreciate you keepin’ da key in da keyhole, Kaldr. I’d have been waitin’ out d’ere in that storm oderwise!”

Kaldr, an aging dwarf with a long flowing white beard, chuckled quietly from behind the bar. “No one’s come through for weeks, Einar. No need to pull the key out. You’re the only adventurer about these days.”

Einar dropped a couple of gold coins on the counter for using the door, and Kaldr raised an eyebrow. “Save your gold, lad. Soon enough, there’ll be plenty of adventurers payin' their way through that door. Struck a bargain with the Adventurer’s Guild.”

Einar looked up questioningly. “Da Guild?”

Kaldr nodded. “Aye. They’ll be paying me a steady fee for the door’s use, and since their adventurers get to their locations faster, it’s worth it to them. The guild takes a commission on all the adventurers' take when they return, so the more adventurers go out, the better for everyone. I’ll still own the door and the key—and any other keys that may be found.”

Einar scratched his chin. “So vat’s in it for dem, eh?”

Kaldr’s eyes gleamed. “The faster they get to the locations, the faster they can bring back treasure. And if another key is ever found, that’ll open more opportunities for the guild. There’s even a bounty on finding another key.”

Einar leaned on the counter. “Yah, sounds good for adventurers, sure. But will I need to join da Guild to use it?”

Kaldr grinned. “That’s the idea, unless I deem it an emergency. But deciding what counts as an emergency... well, that’s up to the innkeeper of The Forest Inn. And I don’t think you’ll have to worry about that.”

Einar chuckled. “Gah, glad to hear it!”

As Kaldr poured Einar a drink, the innkeeper’s face grew more serious. “The door… sometimes it has its own reasons for opening, you know.”

Einar frowned. “What d’you mean?” Kaldr placed the drink in front of him.

“You ever get a sense from the door? Like it’s talking to you?”

Einar nodded slowly. “Yah, sometimes. Feels like it tells me what to expect, what to be prepared for. Never seems wrong.”

Kaldr’s expression darkened a little, and he pulled up a stool. “You’ve felt it too, then? The door speaks to me as well. More and more over the years, like a voice from the next room.”

Einar raised an eyebrow. “Speaks to you?”

Kaldr nodded, a thin smile crossing his lips. “Aye. It’s like a friend, at times. Sometimes it just talks, sometimes it argues, and now and then... it even tells a joke.”

Einar blinked, incredulous. “A joke? Gah, I don’t believe it.”

Kaldr chuckled. “Believe it or not, it’s true. But don’t mistake it for something light. The door doesn’t just speak to anyone.”

As the months passed, Einar used the door regularly to travel to each of the 18 different lands connected through the door, and more adventurers began to arrive as well. Kaldr, now partnered with the Adventurer’s Guild, kept a tight schedule of when each key needed to be placed in the correct keyhole to ensure the timely return of the parties.

Einar noticed the inn becoming busier, with adventuring groups bidding for quests through a monthly auction. The Guild would sometimes provide potions or magical items to help the adventurers, and Kaldr’s share of the commission grew. But Einar could also see Kaldr growing weaker. The old innkeeper’s jokes about “not being around much longer” were becoming more frequent, but there was a seriousness behind them.

In their quiet moments by the fire, Kaldr began musing with Einar about the care of the inn—its suppliers, the quirks of dealing with them, and his cautious trust of the Guild. All generally boring stuff to Einar, but he listen d to the old dwarf as he rambled on about his business.

The day finally came when Kaldr didn’t emerge from his room. Einar found him still and peaceful, a letter beside his bed. It was simple and to the point: “The door has chosen. The inn is yours to guard. Keep its secrets.”

After taking care of Kaldr’s body and holding a short service near the back of the inn, Einar returned to the now quiet inn and stood by the door, the key in his hand. “Aye, I suppose the door knew all along,” he muttered. His days of wandering were over—his new role as the innkeeper of The Forest Inn had just begun.

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As several years passed, Einar grew comfortable in his role as innkeeper of The Forest Inn. More adventurers visited the inn with increasing frequency, and he grew close to many of them—some of whom lived in distant lands but returned nightly for a drink and the camaraderie of shared stories by the fire. Though another key had yet to be found, rumors and clues spread among the adventurers, whispers of where a second or even a third key might be hidden. Einar listened closely, knowing that such a discovery would open new pathways and bring even more to the inn.

Despite the growing traffic, Einar found that the inn retained its old charm. The adventurers who came through the door often shared tales of treasure, danger, and magic, though none matched the sense of belonging that Einar had grown to feel within the inn’s walls. He had become more than just its keeper—he was its heart, ensuring the inn remained a place of refuge, mystery, and stories for those who sought adventure.