Once again, Sigyn and I are traveling with the humans. They have chosen to stay at the most confusing inn I have ever encountered. Take, for example, this door near the lift.
Believe it or not, I did not do this. And what do you make of these instructions for egress in “the unlikely event” of fire? I shall give you a moment to ponder it…
1) Relative to the room in which we are staying, the map is upside down. 2) Room number 221 has been magically transported to the third floor. (Again, I did not do it.) And 3) The helpful “you are here” dot seems to suggest that we are standing in the parking lot, no doubt watching as the inn goes up in flames. (The map assumes one has managed to find the stairs, which I was unable to locate.)
Like the last inn we stayed at, this one has provided an adequate breakfast, though not one befitting the future ruler of Midgard. It does, however, feature a machine which makes a breakfast in the shape of this state. See what I cooked:
I have used my magic and my (grudgingly) acquired knowledge of this state to create a precipitation map. Note the plump, perfect eastern portion and increasing scantiness as one moves westward. The Plains and Panhandle are experiencing a drought, while the Trans-Pecos in the far west has had a bare 1.5″ of rain so far this year and scarcely registers at all. Sigyn is inspecting Galveston Bay in the compartment to her south.
Can we go home now?