Settling In

Off we go, on an adventure into the deep unknown.

Within a minute, we had already left the courtyard. Clickety clack, we moved along a cobblestone road. The roads were basically empty, but Smokster explained it had to do with us being out really early. The sun had barely left the horizon.

"With the old man's character, he probably didn't even tell you what we're delivering. Heck, he probably only informed you of the delivery a few minutes before we met."

With a surprising amount of enthusiasm, he further explained: "I already told you our destination is the guard station, right? … Oh, yeah… you don't speak. Whoopsie daisy. Anyways, we'll be delivering them their breakfast. They're a rowdy bunch, but very friendly. They're the reason the city is so peaceful nowadays. That didn't always use to be the case…"

After that final ominous remark, dwarf didn't speak anymore until we arrived. Our wagon had taken a turn off the main road, headed into the alleyway between two massive buildings, and stopped next to a short staircase leading up to an inconspicuous door.

Next to the door stood a guard who seemed to have been awaiting our arrival. What followed was a short exchange between Smokey and the guard.

"Hello, Dave," the guard greeted.

"Morning, John," David cheerfully replied.

"The usual?"

"The usual."

"You seem to have brought a new face," the guard stated as he eyed me.

"Ah yes, this lad here is a new hire. You'll presumably be seeing his face more in the coming days. Oh yeah, he can't… uhm, doesn't like to speak."

"Understandable"

Seems like they're done with their discussion. Dave then moved to open the door whilst stating:

"Just place the goods to the left, we'll handle the rest."

For some reason, Smokey saluted and replied, "Aye aye captain."

"Stop calling me that, it's already been so many years."

"You'll always be a captain to me."

Huh, well, we can now finally get our job done and move on.

"Hey kid, just lower the goods out of the wagon, I'll handle the rest."

Unloading the wagon actually took us a surprisingly long. With each package removed, a few more were always revealed. When we were finally done, the roads were already completely packed.

Due to the constant stop and go traffic, by the time we arrived back at the inn, the sun had already reached its peak.

Upon entering the kitchen through the courtyard entrance, we were heartily greeted by the oldie.

"Welcome back boys. It seems ya' guys were successful. Help yourselves to the fresh meals in da kitchen. But, before that, come with me for a second, lad."

The old man led me out of the kitchen through the tavern and into a side room. Besides a table with a sack on it, there was hardly anything remarkable about the room.

"Whilst you were out handlin' the delivery, I got ya' a set of decent clothes. Can't have ya' ruinin' me patrons' appetite with your interesting style of clothing. Livin' Corpse just ain't in these days."

"That reminds me. I forget to ask you earlier, but do you have a name?"

That's an excellent question. Do I have a name? Is there any significance attached to owning a specific name? Is my name Jelly? No, that felt wrong. I'm not Jelly.

It seems I don't currently possess a name.

Thus, I shook my head.

"Huh, well, that won't do. I'd prefer being able to use something a bit more proper to refer to you as. Ah well, I'll just go with lad then."

…

The following weeks went by very similarly. On top of the daily morning deliveries, I was also slowly entrusted with new tasks. I even learned how to cook a few simple meals. There may have also been one occasion where I came way too close to burning down the entire inn. It was however a great excuse to remodel the kitchen.

As time passed, I also noticed an oddity. The tavern portion of the inn was always surprisingly peaceful even though, from what I remember, alcohol usually results in a more chaotic environment.

I witnessed the reason on one particular evening a few days later.

I was more than just a bit surprised when the old man casually picked up two troublemakers, with a single hand each, and quite literally threw them out.

That actually ended up smashing the main door off its hinges. The hooligans were however significantly worse off than the door, and I was also quite certain an arm shouldn't bend that way.

Anyway, by the next morning, the main entrance looked as good as new, so everything seemed to have worked out fine.