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Her brother hadn’t been back for many hours. Then again, business had been slow these days, and it wasn’t like there were patrons around to keep up appearances for… She also hadn’t done the laundry recently, so her dress was a mixture of dust and polka-dots, and her boots were scuffed from the mud from a few days back when she had to handle a few maintenance tasks in the rain. But the broom was a little too tall for her, and she struggled to keep it elevated just right as she went about her task. Seeing the time as the sun lowered in the sky, she stepped out of the barely renovated inn, a broom in hand, and proceeded to sweep up the dirt on their front steps. Mara didn’t really think much about that really. But many didn’t really go on pilgrimages anymore – none but the very devout few, who still believed in the Goddess that now watched over a newly remade world. Upstairs were still the rooms for the weary to rest, once mainly meant for those on a pilgrimage. The prayer alcove had been converted to a delicacy stand, selling the innkeeper’s homemade treats they had baked for the day. Where once the symbols of Martel would be decorated along the walls with banners and silk, where the humble statue of Spiritua would be placed on the small prayer dais in the front, with mats on the floor to cushion a worshipper’s knees, it was now just a general dining area for visitors, with an innkeeper’s counter placed to the side. It still maintained its two stories, shaped like a pillar, with a great open area inside on the first floor. It wasn’t such a surprise as to why they still did- for ever since it was claimed by the new owners, not much was done to change the original architecture. For the inn that was placed on the crossroads leading between Iselia and Triet, many still called it a House of Salvation whenever they passed by the structure.