The inn is at the edge of the village nearest the dock. The sign has no words, just a picture of a jellyfish holding a tankard, painted in a gently glowing purple and blue and green and gold, the same shades as the various animals and plants from the lakes. It's a cheery place, whitewashed and then painted with swirls of phosphorescence in the same colors, like many of the buildings. The windows aren't glass, but some sort of thin, translucent membrane.
The proprietor is a tall, gruff woman with green hair and golden-green eyes with a slit pupil. The crowd is a mixture of probably-human and her apparent species, mostly locals, with a few clear strangers, likely other travelers - an individual of indistinct gender with scaled skin and a crest of horns instead of hair, a group of one-foot-tall winged humanoids colored purple and blue and pale cream, a few probably-humans in odd garb sitting off by themselves, and a talking cat loudly trouncing her table (which includes a laughing Sarati) at cards.
A room and dinner and breakfast for two comes out to a fairly reasonable price, with some haggling.