Victor

  The atmosphere of the common area and lobby was what one might expect with a name like "Platinum" - mostly quiet, with soothing string music playing. The scent of freshly cooked food was hanging in the air, and the weight of my hunger became manifest; how I longed for some brisket. It's not like the brisket at that place was the best brisket, but man when you're on the road there's nothing like it, know whatta mean?

  There were some patrons sipping daintily or cutting their food bit by bit; yeah this place was a bit too fancy for my blood, but I mean, it wasn't all bad. I'd give it a shot, of course, but there had to be a steak n taters kind of place somewhere in this world, right? The people dining were both men and women, mostly elves but I did see a well-dressed human guy among them too.

  The receptionist was a lovely elf lady with light, icy blue eyes, and hair that I would liken to silver - not the same shade of gray that we call the hair of people referred to as "silver foxes", I mean it actually had the same metallic glisten of actual silver; the king's hair had been closer to platinum than silver now that I saw her hair. Her low cut dress was blue like her eyes, but with a silver trim that matched her hair.

  Jiofriel held his hand up and said, "please, allow me to make the arrangements, master Vic."

  I nodded. It made sense, the receptionist wasn't going to understand a damn word I said after all. Where was the universal translator from Star Trek when you needed it, anyway? Learning two languages was gonna be a pain, and the odds of ever being able to converse with someone in English or even Spanish again were pretty dismal.

  The last time I'd used Spanish for anything more than ordering food was when I went to Cancun on spring break with my army pals back in my second year of college.

  "This gentleman is an adventurer, a special guest of the king," said Jiofriel. "Unfortunately he doesn't speak elvish or common - only the tongue of a distant land the king once visited long ago. He is, however, presently under the effects of comprehension and can understand what you say at this time. His majesty bids that he be lodged in the ambassador's suite."

  The butler brought out some large gold coins, each about the size of an American silver dollar, "the crown will be covering the cost of his room and board, please do treat him with care."

  The lady counted the money in front of her and said "very well".

  She smiled at me and rang a little silver bell on the counter. I didn't have time to wonder what that was for, because two men dressed in matching doublet coats scurried into the room. You ring a bell, and they hop. Wait speaking of hopping…one of them had rabbit ears growing out of his head. No way. Bunny men? Did that imply what I think it implied?

  Actually upon further examination, those ears were straight and erect, more like a hare than a rabbit, but the idea was the same. The other was an elf with sleepy eyes covered in dark circles; he was rather young looking, I'm talking round-faced and short. Huh, he actually resembled the receptionist a little. Could he have been her son, or nephew maybe?

  The two guys started carrying my luggage, I couldn't exactly object but I did insist on carrying a certain package by myself - it was long and thin and I didn't feel comfortable letting anyone else handle it. I lamented that I didn't have any of the local currency to tip them with, if there was even a tipping culture at all. Yeah, what good was a federal reserve note without a federal reserve? The quarters I had stashed in my ashtray weren't gonna be of much use either - don't lie, you did it too whenever you had a car equipped with one.

  Jiofriel and I parted ways at this point, he gave a polite bow and I waved to him. The bellhops and I went up the stairs, all the way to the third floor. When we alighted from the staircase I noticed that there was a set of double doors leading towards the front of the building.

  Lightning struck my brain, "so that's why there wasn't a roof," I thought. When I pointed to the door and tilted my head, the gent with the bunny ears got the hint.

  "That's the rooftop dining area," he said, thereby confirming my guess. I nodded and gave a thumbs up. Well they'd probably seen their fair share of out of towners so an unfamiliar gesture was nothing new to them I supposed. Gee, I sure hope I don't accidentally flip someone off here.

  Eventually they brought me to the aforementioned ambassador's suite - and oh boy was I in for a surprise. It was big. Not only that, it was ridiculously fancy. I'd stayed at some pretty decent hotels back in my old world, most memorably the Grand Park Royal in Cancun and the Fairmont in San Francisco, but this room was next level. I mean granted most hotel rooms I'd ever seen were kind of plain looking with bland carpets, maybe one painting, nondescript curtains, and monochrome wallpaper.

  None of that applied here. There was a vaulted ceiling supported by wooden ribs with a glossy finish; not only that, those ribs were intricately carved with the image of leaves, small branches, birds, and I even saw a squirrel, The ceiling itself was painted with an image of the two moons I'd just seen; ah-ha, when looking directly upwards I got the impression that I was looking through the canopy of trees to the night sky, very clever!

  The walls were wood paneled with the same sort of dark wood the outside walls were made of and a leaf pattern ran along the top and bottom of each wall. The floors were hardwood and there were carpets throughout; mostly green and gold patterns that brought to mind flowers and leaves. There was even a stone fireplace with two fluffy chairs and a sofa. And this was just the front room!

  That's right, when they called this a suite they weren't kidding. The bedroom and bathroom adjoined the living room, and there was a large walk-in closet. I just stood there with my jaw dropped to the floor, and if I were actually carrying anything by hand I'd have dropped it too; my special package was strapped to my back, incidentally. They asked me if I'd like to be shown around and I nodded.

  The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

  First we went into the bathroom. There was a water basin, a large bath, and an adjoining comfort station with its own privacy screen - the less said about that last part the better. Well, okay, I will mention that their method of disposing of solid waste was interesting, to say the least, but I wouldn't learn about that until later so I'll spare that detail for now.

  I was given a demonstration for how to use the bath tub, and my perplexment must have been rather obvious because the boy explained how the darn thing worked.

  "This is a highly sophisticated magical implement, you see," he turned the left crank and steaming hot water poured out, "this uses a combination of water magic and fire magic to produce hot water," he pointed to the drain and said "down it goes, through a pipe, into the aqueduct."

  I wanted to ask about what they do about all that dirty bathwater, but once again that is a question I got answered later so please bear with me. My other thought was that this thing must have been pretty expensive; I shouldn't expect this kind of luxury if I were to visit another inn on the road somewhere but damned if I wasn't gonna enjoy it while I could. I didn't care much for fancy dos and haute couture, but I could appreciate a nice hot bath and a warm bed.

  Ah yes the bed, boy howdy, I have to say this was the best bed I'd ever lain in. I supposed that the sheets were made of some kind of textile that only elves knew how to make - it was soft to the touch, not too hot, not too cold. The mattress was in that Goldilocks zone; whether it, too, was a magical device I couldn't say, nor did anyone clarify for me. No sooner had the bellhops left than I had plopped myself down upon it and spread out like a starfish. Hmm but what to do now?

  Ah, of course! I wanted to lay out all of my things and see what I had to work with. In case you hadn't already guessed, the long bag that I had slung over my shoulder was a rifle case; inside was my Remington 700 bolt-action hunting rifle chambered for .308 Winchester, featuring a detachable magazine and a scope mount.

  I had a green metal ammo box with 100 rounds of that caliber, high grain for hunting large game naturally. Speaking of ammunition, I also had two full boxes of .45 ACP in my duffel bag; my Colt 1911 was strapped to my chest as usual - whoops, I'd gotten so used to it that I'd forgotten it was there, sorry your majesty.

  I knew I was going to want to do some target practice before going after them wild boar, and then some more shootin' for fun afterwards so I was sure to bring plenty of extra rounds; sadly I'd left my Desert Eagle at home so I didn't have that one. All told I had 200 rounds combined of .45 and .308 - if I was going to be doing any sort of shooting, I was going to need to be extra careful about how much ammo I used.

  I mean even if I saved the brass, where was I supposed to get more primer and powder? Lead would be easy enough to find I reckoned, but the rest not so much. Also, finding the ingredients of black powder was one thing, but smokeless powder used in centerfire rifle cartridges? As Graham "Cracker" Smith would say "fuhgeddaboudit".

  Crap. Then it dawned on me that I also had a limited supply of fuel in this world. Where in the high heavens was I supposed to get more gasoline? Even with my modifications she still got under 20 mpg. I decided that I would only drive in the case where speed was critical - otherwise I'd have to hitch up a horse to the chassis and pull her. Well it worked for Tony Curtis, didn't it? Yeah, I'll be walking around town while I stay here that's for sure. Oh well, on to the next items on my list.

  My duffel bag contained some extra clothing and some other things besides. Nothing too fancy, just four shirts, four black tanks, six pairs of boxers, two extra pairs of pants, my combat boots, one pair of swimming trunks, one bandana, and six pairs of socks.

  Of the two pairs of pants, one was blue jeans and the other camo cargo pants with extra pockets. I had one black button-down shirt, one Iron Maiden t-shirt, and one of them khaki safari shirts with four pockets. What color were my boxers? Who cares! Sheesh!

  I also had my bowie knife in here, and it was a good one; it had a 12-inch blade, and was made in America. Let's see, I also had my toiletry bag in here; shaving cream, straight-edge razor, a tiny bottle of mouthwash, toothbrush, toothpaste, a certain deodorant which had a highly quotable commercial, a little bottle of cologne, a brush, and a comb. I'd also brought a baseball, but no bat; well, at least I could practice my pitching if nothing else. I hadn't thought to bring a mitt; sometimes it's just nice to throw a ball around, y'know.

  As for the suitcase, it was just your bog-standard black canvas case that you can get at any old department store; it did have wheels but I almost never bothered using them. It was the largest that could fit in the trunk of my car and so it could hold quite a bit. The scope of my rifle was inside a small narrow box, as was my gun-cleaning kit and the tools I needed to attach the scope.

  I had some drafting and writing material as well: a pencil case with a few pens and pencils and I think a protractor last time I checked, one sketchbook, two composition notebooks. This suitcase was also where I'd kept my game bags and field dressing kits, a hundred feet of braided nylon rope, the mallet I used for pounding stakes into the ground, a little bottle of lighter fluid for refilling my lighter - I had to check my pocket to make sure it was there, and sure enough, there it was: a flip lighter with a picture of The Alamo on it.

  I didn't need a lighter to start fires, or even matches, but this one was a collector's item! Not forgetting my bartender kit of course; making Tiki drinks is a fun party trick don't you know? I had also brought a few books that are near and dear to my heart - Sun Tzu's Art of War, my favorite pocket field guide to plants and animals, my do-it-yourself manual, and my survival guidebook. Physical media rules! Gotta be prepared, or I couldn't go calling myself an Eagle Scout - or a Batman fan for that matter.

  Next came a cloth grocery bag that I'd acquired from a certain chain of stores which shared a first name with a famous mixologist; it was a good size so I'd always used it when packing food for road trips. I had some homemade beef jerky, not flavored in any special way, just peppered to high heaven.

  I'd also brought ample spices to mix into a good old fashioned dry rub; after all, I had been planning to feast on some wild pork, but I went over the details of that with a certain someone later so I'll leave it at that for now. There was a bottle of 18 year old highland Scotch - the only fancy thing that I actually liked. Miscellaneous food items included a small carton of blueberries, a bag of kettle potato chips, and special ingredients for a certain sort of tasty after-dinner canape; I'd be saving those last ones for later.

  The biggest item by far was a three pound bag of dark roast coffee beans; now how was I supposed to use these? I'd blanked on bringing a grinder. Mortar and pestle maybe?

  Finally there was the cooler which was full of the least amount of things. Eighteen glass bottles, twelve of which were full of my home brewed ale and six of which were filled with a dark, sweet liquid and were shaped rather like a curvaceous woman.

  You know, that cane sugar soda from south of the border which for legal reasons I can't name. Of course there were also ice packs, but that should go without saying. I figured I could go for a cold one after I tried whatever they had on offer downstairs. Well then speaking of food: I threw my duster over the coat rack, took off my gun belt, kicked off my shoes and hurried back to the commons - supper was on.