ALVATIA: Ingsby - Inn

ALVATIA: City of Wedburgh

The Two Beasts Inn

A yard about 100 feet across contains two small sheds or huts, a few pens for small animals, a coop, and the Inn. The Inn is 60 feet long and 14 feet deep, with the ridge of its thatch roof rising to about 14 feet at the peak. The cruck framing divides the building into five sections; from right to left when facing the building, these are the byre, the hall (two sections), the kitchen, and the pantry/buttery. The painted sign over the front door remains unclear as to its meaning, even upon close inspection. A small 'cat door' with a swinging flap penetrates the front wall near the main door; another wider but cruder door at one end of the inn gives access to the byre, which also serves as a stable of sorts.

The front door opens directly into the hall; an irregular stone doorstep keeps the entrance from being scuffed into a rut. Perhaps a score of people could be seated here; the room is 14 feet deep and 30 feet long. Several trestle tables and rickety stools crowd the hard, uneven dirt floor of this room; a broad hearth and chimney dominates the room. Every few days, a new layer of reeds is spread over the floor, and the old layer is burned in the hearth. An iron arm and kettle testify to the use of the hearth for at least some of the cooking duties here; two niches in the stone chimney front above the hearth can hold small items for warming. Rough timbers cross the room just above head height; a few planks have been placed upon them to support a collection of cheeses, blankets, old buckets, and other items. Above the timbers, the dark and shaggy underside of the thatch sags between the roof beams; a shadowy fuzz of cobwebs obscures the underside of the roof ridge. The outer walls, roughly textured and unpainted, have seen rough use; bits of wattle and straw protrude here and there. The interior walls at each end of this room are of undaubed wattle. An open doorway in one interior wall leads further into the building; a small back door opens into a squalid pasture, where the inn’s patrons relieve themselves; the small brewshed sits in this pasture. The hall smells of stale ale, sweat, smoke, thatch, mold, bedding, the byre, and the kitchen. Two shuttered but unglazed windows, one in front and one in back, let some light into the hall by day; at night, the fireplace or perhaps a single oil lamp provide the only light. Another “cat door,” this one without a flap, opens into the byre.

The interior door from the hall leads to the kitchen, which smells more strongly of cooking odors. A simple floor hearth without a chimney is centered on the dirt floor, straddled by an iron tripod which supports another kettle. The thatch, ceiling timbers, and roof beams in this room are heavily darkened by smoke from the hearth; a few cobwebs billow in the upper angles of the roof. Two trestle tables are in this room, used as work surfaces by the innkeeper. At night, these tables are taken apart, and the innkeeper’s family sleeps here; two stained and battered chests contain the bedding and finer possessions of the family. Pegs or shelves on the sturdier parts of the wall support the simple implements of the innkeeper – wooden spoons, pottery bowls, a goat's udder colander, and a large collection of shapeless leather 'jacks' for serving ale. A ceramic firestopper leans against the wall when it is not in use. The end (interior) walls of the kitchen are undaubed wattle, each with an open doorway; a rickety ladder leads up to a loft over the last section of the building. A shuttered window is let into each of the outside walls of this room. Past the kitchen, the last section of the inn is divided by a wattle wall into two sections: a pantry and a buttery. The pantry is used to store bread, eggs, salt fish or meat, etc.; the buttery stores ale, milk, and other beverages. Both are a clutter of shelves, baskets, jars, barrels, tubs, and other containers. The loft above this section holds hay, grain, dried fruit in baskets, piles and sacks of vegetables, and other supplies. There are no windows in this section of the inn. Plenty of rat dropping indicate the interest of rodents in the contents of this bay.

Several cords of firewood are piled under the back eaves of the inn.

In the pasture behind the inn, about 80 feet from the back door, is the brewshed: a small thatched hut, with one door, no windows, and a smokehole in the middle of its tiny roof. Within, a hearth and large cauldron are used to brew ale; flagstones cover most of the floor. A shelf holds a couple of new jacks, a small bucket, a stirring paddle, a huck-muck (willow ale-strainer) and a ladle.

Inn Residents

John Long

John Long, the innkeeper, is a stout man of 50 years. His ruddy face is surrounded by curly red hair, with some gray; crow’s foot wrinkles radiate from the corners of his eyes. He wears a stained apron over his drab tunic. He is not an intellectual, active, or talkative man, and responds to most requests with various grunts – of course, he has known many of his patrons for their entire lives, and they easily interpret his scanty language. The inn was his father’s before him, and he has few ambitions; a lack of competition or comparison keeps his customers coming back. He resents travelers who complain about the provisions and accommodations provided by his inn – in his view, they should be happy to have supper and a roof over their heads.

Ethel Long

His wife, Ethel, is a careworn and fatigued woman. Almost ten years younger than her husband, she has coarse black hair and dark eyes. She usually smells of kitchen smoke. Caring for her children, and working in the kitchen, have left her with little time for rest or the appreciation of pleasure. She is very pious, and when free time is (rarely) presented will be found at the shrine.

Gertrude Porter

Ethel’s sister, Gertrude, is 35 years old. She and her son, Ronald, became part of John Long’s household after her husband died of a fall into a frozen pond four years ago. Gertrude appreciates what her sister and John have done for her and Ronald, but John is not someone who encourages loyalty or gratitude. Given half a chance, Ethel would leave the inn, or even Ingsby, if she thought she and her son would be better off. Ethel has charge of the ale-brewing for the inn, and is proud of the fact that she has never been fined for weak ale.

Ethel and Gertrude are the older sisters of Bertram, the village wright.

Ronald Porter

Ronald is the 13 year old son of Gertrude. He does not enjoy living at the inn, as John and Ethel’s younger children are not very nice to him. He is given a lot of chores to do in the inn yard, and has been considering going to a city, or entering service with some lord.

Karl Long

Karl, John’s eldest son, is 22 years old. A very handsome young man, quiet (but not so much as his father), he is considered quite marriageable by many folk in this and some nearby villages. Most of the people his age have been married for two or three years already, and he takes some teasing for it. He daydreams of a romantic life in the big city -- the product, perhaps, of listening to too many traveller's tales in his father's inn.

John Long the Younger

Two younger children, Terry (age 10) and John (age 9), are also part of the household; they often tease Ronald. Of all the children in the village, these two boys have the least chores to do, and thus the most free time.

An un-named female cat is kept and fed by the inn.

Inn Transients

The inn gets an average of one guest per night; sometimes none, sometimes more. These guests are usually freemen from nearby villages going to -A NEARBY- town -- when villeins or cottars travel on their lord's business, they bring their own food and sleep in barns, under bridges, in their cart, or in the open. One or two dozen villagers stop by each day for a pint of ale -- mostly in the late afternoon.

Lately, Robert the servant of Father Wallace has been stopping here every evening. He and sergeant Gerard have a pint together. See IngsbyRectory for details.

Sargeant Gerard

Sargaent Gerard has been staying here for several days. He was sent by the Sheriff of Vilgarth to capture Auberon, a fleeing felon. Gerard has not been able to persuade Sir Dennis, lord of the manor, or Father Wallace, the village priest of Saint Carmund, to allow him to violate sanctuary. In fact, he is not eager to violate law and custom anyway; he would prefer to capture Auberon by guile and skill. His plan is to obviously and openly depart Ingsby, and when Auberon creeps forth -- some hired goons (the players) leap upon the miscreant! Gerard can afford a shilling or two to hire goons, but would prefer to spend less (as the money comes out of his own pocket).

Gerard has a horse, saddle and tack, spurs, gambeson, hauberk, helmet, shield and surcoat with the Sheriff's mark, a bedroll, travelling cloak and pack, dagger, sword, 40' feet of rope, a water bag, and some preserved meat. He is a competent outdoorsman and horseman, but only a fair swordsman.

See IngsbyPlots for more details.

Econonomy

The inn offers:

• ale, per pint: 1/8 d
• a night's lodging, with two meals and bedding: 2 d
• stabling and feeding a horse one night: 1/2 d

Annual Income

• sale of ale 720 d
• lodgings and food 720 d
• value of food, dairy, etc. produced on croft 40 d
  • total income 1500 d

Annual Expenses

• barley for making ale 288 d
• feeding 8 persons (inc. guest) on "stew" diet 730 d
• taxes, rent, etc. 96 d
• tithes on cash income 146 d
  • total expenses 1260 d

Thus household discretionary income is 240 d per annum. About 60 d of that is in Gertrude's hands (and she has saved 27 d), the remaining 180 d is spent or saved by John and Ethel (who have saved 81 d). John owns a basic sword, shield and helmet, as required by the king's law. Karl owns only a sword and shield as of yet; the bailiff does not push men without their own households into compliance. The other goods and furnishings of the inn have a total value of 240 d; the buildings themselves are worth 600 d.