Inn of the Welcome Wench
Bright and early was not a phrase he was particularly fond of. Oh, sure, a farmer needed as much daylight as he could get, particularly during the winter months. But he wasn't a farmer. He preferred staying awake half the night and then sleeping until he had enough.
Unfortunately, the crowing of the roosters and the chirping of the birds had roused him from his slumbers, and the streaming rays of the rising sun were keeping him from reclaiming them.
With a heavy sigh, he threw off the blanket, swung his legs over the side of the bed and managed to make it to a sitting position. He lowered his head and immediately began to nod off.
"No, no, no. This will never do! Get up, you lazy oaf!" he rumbled to himself as if that would motivate him. Apparently it did.
He snapped his head up, blue eyes wide awake now, and stood up. He relieved himself in the provided bucket, splashed some water on his face, and then looked at himself in the rough mirror. That a mirror was even provided was astounding.
It confirmed what he'd thought as he'd fallen asleep the night before: his hair was getting too long. Once it hung down over his ears, it had a tendency to obscure his peripheral vision.
Another sigh. He pulled out his dagger and attacked his lengthy locks, trimming them down to a more battle-friendly level.
He dressed quickly, donning his studded leather armor since he didn't know what surprises the day would hold, and then made his way downstairs to smell of breakfast cooking.
"Good morning," he managed to say, though it was unclear from his gruff tone if that was a statement or well-wish.
"I don't suppose anything interesting happened during the night, did it?"