(Two is a meaningful number. What it means, we don't know yet.)

"This way," Stormcloud says to him, and she proceeds down the hall to the room labeled with a big '10'. This one has an actual door with a doorknob and everything!

He will see if the doorknob and the things which operating it reveals are suitable for his use.

Yes and also yes. Perfectly human-compatible, if rather Disney-movie-aesthetic, hotel room. With an ensuite bathroom, even, and a tray of oatmeal cookies by the door in case of snack-related urges.

(Well, that's more than he was expecting.)

But he does not put down his pack.

“This seems fine.”

"Glad to hear it," says Stormcloud. "You can ask Pebble if you need anything, and I'll be around in the morning whenever you'd like to go see the library, does that sound all right?"

“In the morning. All right. And would it be dinnertime around now? It was a bit earlier than that where I was and I will need to adjust a bit.”

"Yes, approximately."

Presumably they are both heading back the way they came at least until the door Pebble was on the other side of. Presumably that is also where the food is.

Yes, that is accurate.

Just as they reach it, a tall woman steps in the side door. She is wearing what appears to be a dress made of bark, and has pale green skin, and leaves and flowers tangled in her long brown hair. The leaves and the bark match the tree that was outside.

"Evening, miss," says Stormcloud.

— okay that explains the tree. Keep an eye on the trees because trees may be people. Pretty peopledon'tthinkaboutthat.

Are they having a conversation or was that just a verbal nod?

Just a verbal nod. She nods politely back, and they all proceed into the inn's main room, which is largely deserted at this time. The tree-woman, who must be around seven feet tall, approaches a tap with some cups next to it and pours herself some water.

And so you, like, place your order at the bar, right?

Looks like it! There is a two-foot-tall sky-blue humanoid with white hair and glittering dragonfly wings standing on a stool behind the bar, regarding them all with a friendly smile.

— Glance at Stormcloud​, then approach the bar.

"Evening!" says the small blue person. "What can I get for you?"

There is a slate behind the bar with a menu written on it in chalk, divided into sections for various dietary needs. Perhaps he would like Mixed Nuts, or one of various salads, or (farther down in the omnivorous section) rabbit stew. Prices are listed in small whole numbers of an unfamiliar currency symbol - a lot of ones, some twos, a handful of threes or fours or fives. Beverages are also available, listed on a second slate: tea, coffee, hot chocolate, assorted fruit juices.

“What can you get me? I'm, er, an outworlder and I don't have any of your money,” he says with a significant glance at the menu.

"Oh, don't worry about it, then," he says. "Not fair to ask you to pay if you've never gotten your citizen's stipend."

(Oh, so this is a fairy tale with economics in?)

“All right then, uh,” he picks one of the least unfamiliar-sounding salads.

He nods amicably. "That'll be just a minute," he says, leaving his stool to flit over to presumably-the-kitchen.

He collects a cup of water (after quiickly asking whoever's nearby to confirm that it is water and not something more esoteric) and takes a seat at the bar. Because that's what you do in an inn, right?

Yep! There are many different kinds of seat available, but several of them are human-suitable. Stormcloud gets herself a bowl of water from a similar fixture and sits nearby.

Time to take in the ambience. What's the building made of, what technology is visible (glass? iron? fasteners?), what kinds of people exist, what are they talking about...

Glass yes, iron yes, rather fewer fasteners in evidence than the architecture should require - in a few places, there is a visible instance of timbers being held together by wooden pins, but in most places the walls and ceiling and so forth seem all of a piece, in defiance of logic. The tree-person from earlier is still alone at a small table, and at another table there is a unicorn with a pearly white horn, having a quiet conversation with another small winged humanoid.

The blue person comes back with Jonathan's minimally unfamiliar salad.

—er, does it come with a fork?