The caravan arrived in Cheerwater around mid-afternoon. Dariyus Lamanya collected his pay from the quartermaster and stood looking around the yard, wondering which direction to take. Would a rather large lavender dragonborn intimidate the locals? He hoped not. He hadn’t seen many of his kind outside his peoples’ lands. His scales flushed a darker shade of amethyst as he thought about the last rejection he had faced. Thankfully, his fellows stood up for him.

“Hey, Dari,” the voice of another guard, Hamus Hogtopple, called from behind. “Wait fer me.”

Dari turned, waiting for the much smaller halfling.

“Gate guard says the best place is called The Nail, just up the road a bit. What say we stick together and see if we can figure out what to do next?”

Hamus had been a good friend on the journey south from the northern forests. The halfling related much of what he knew about the varied lands they’d crossed from the reaches where Dari had hired on with the caravan. He was grateful, now, that Brother Balasar insisted he expand his experience. At first, he resented his mentor for convincing him to leave his cocoon of comfort. After a few days, though, he looked forward to the unfamiliar sights, sounds, and smells he would experience for the first time.

Dari made friends with several of the guards and drovers, though the master had hired him and Hamus only as far as Cheerwater. They’d have to find other employment soon. Dari thought their gold would last a tenday, a fortnight, if they were frugal. Hamus didn’t think that would be a problem, and Dari trusted his friend.

The pair found The Nail, and entered a large common room, surprisingly full for mid-afternoon. They searched for a table, finding one only when a couple left to continue their day.

“What can I get ye?” asked the serving man when they sat.

“A bowl of stew and mug of cider,” said Dari.

“Same,” said Hamus, “except I want a’ ale.”

“That’ll be five silver fer each of ye.” He held out his hand.

Dari put a gold coin in his palm. “This pays for us both, no?” He smiled, showing a snout full of sharp teeth.

“Aye,” the man replied cheerfully, as the coin disappeared into a pocket. “Yer supper’ll be right out.”

Dari sat back, looking around the room. A mix of dwarves, halflings, elves, and a few humans mingled in varied conversations, most of which concerned the town. As their meal arrived, a man wearing fancy clothes entered, demanding the attention of the patrons.

“Hear ye!” he called as he rapped a metal-shod staff on the wood floor. “The Lady Ilsa Cheerwater requests the service of a party, or parties, willing to carry out an important task. Please speak with Master Karris for details.” With that, he turned and left.

“I really wish he wouldn’t do that,” muttered the serving man, setting their food on the table.

“I’m sorry. Do what?” asked Dari.

“Forget to tell me that he wants me to send the prospects to Lady Ilsa, that’s what.” He said, making a face.

“Ah, you must be Master Karris,” said Dari. “My friend and I will need employment soon enough. We have just arrived from Bowford with Master Ryson’s caravan.”

Karris gave Dari a measuring look, then shifted his gaze to Hamus.

“Ryson be a good ‘van master, yeah. If’n he ain’t got no complaint about ye’s, I’ll put in a word with old Geth.”

“We would appreciate that, thank you.”

“Ye said ye just got to town, yeah? Found rooms yet?”

“No, we had hoped you might have a suggestion.”

“Aye. I gots two fer a gold apiece. Comes with a bath. It’ll cost ye a’ extra gold for clean water.”

This time, Hamus dug three gold pieces from his pouch and handed it to Master Karris.

“I’ll show ye up when yer done with yer stew.”

Several turns of the glass later, Dari, now clean of a fortnight’s road grime, settled onto a pallet barely long enough to stretch out. The bedding smelled clean. He heard nothing crawling in the dry straw that filled the mattress. He drifted off into his first peaceful night’s sleep since leaving the clan.