The walk to the Cup and Crow was uneventful. The streets were looking a little more lively. People were trickling back inside the walls from the caravan market outside them. One could imagine the hustle and bustle of small town life filling the streets. The sun was starting to set giving everything an amber glow.

“Ya know, I’m feeling pretty lucky.” Francis said.

“How so?” Tim asked.

“I don’t have shoes, and my feet don’t hurt.” Francis took a hopping step to flex his dirt covered feet in front of him. “Like, if this were Earth, I’d swear I’d be limping by now.”

Paul looked over. “I think these new bodies were ‘suited’ for our environment.”

Francis looked up and cocked his head. “Was that a joke? Does this man have jokes?”

Tim gave an exhausted sigh. “It was a pun, the worst kind of joke.”

The front door of the Cup and Crow stood open and flickering light poured out. A faint aroma of spices greeted the four as they stepped in through the door. The back wall had a bar, large tapped barrels, and a doorway leading into another room. The fireplace currently had a lit fire providing light and warmth. A couple of square tables with long benches for seating were scattered about the room.

As for the patrons. The four recognized Bernard currently seated at a table. Bernard was currently eating out of a bowl with half a loaf of bread next to him. A couple of other humans that they hadn’t met before, but looked like labourers of some kind. And finally, the proprietress currently standing behind the bar wearing an apron with her hair up in a bun.

“Come in, grab a seat where’er.” The proprietress called out.

“Mark, you’re with me. We’re begging, and you’re the eye candy.” Francis spoke quickly in a low voice. “Paul, Tim, you two are the backup plan. Go talk to Bernard there and get friendly.”

Paul and Tim were surprised, but quickly composed themselves to give a smile and wave towards Bernard. They walked on over to commandeer a couple of seats.

“How am I the ‘eye candy’.” Mark bent over to whisper at Francis as they meandered towards the bar.

Francis waved in a friendly manner at the proprietress while whispering through his teeth. “Julia back at the guild was burning holes through your clothes with her eyes. How did you not notice?”

“She was just being friendly.” Mark said. “It’s her job.”

“She was about to make her ‘job’ all about you given half the chance.” Francis snapped back. “Now let me work and follow my lead.”

“Hi there!” Francis’s voice sparkled with enthusiasm. “We got recommended this place from Julia down at the adventurers guild. She said this place would be a good spot to stay the night in, miss..?”

“Don’t get your lot in here very often. Me names Greta.” The woman rested her arms on the bar top.

Greta looked matronly and comfortably middle aged. Brown hair was starting to go gray at the temple and there was a plumpness to her that spoke of a habit of constantly tasting food to make sure it was properly done.

“A pleasure to meet you Greta. We’re new in town and find ourselves in a bind.” Francis hauled himself up onto a stool. “Perhaps you’ve heard rumours about us? From Bernard there maybe?” Francis gestured towards Bernard at his table where the other two had engaged him in conversation.

“Oh roight. The four O’ you had one of them accidents.” Greta nodded. “I heard the talk what’s been going round.”

“That’s us.” Francis gave a saddened look. “And it’s left us in dire straits as it were. We’re nibless the four of us so we’re hoping for a bit of charity.”

“Wot kind of charity?” Greta’s face hardened.

“Nothing much, Nothing much.” Francis raised his hands in surrender. “We’re just nibless at the moment. We’ve taken on the goblin job from the guild, but it’s too late to get to it right now. So we were hoping for a couple of things you can provide.”

Francis ticked things off on his fingers. “A bit to eat, a place to sleep, and most important of all.” Francis waggled his eyebrows. “a bath. I don’t feel ‘half’ a man without one.”

Greta snorted. “Adventurers who bathe. As I live and breathe, never thought I’d see the day.”

Mark took this opportunity to speak up. “We’d be happy to do some work if it’s needed. Washing dishes, cleaning, that sort of thing.”

“You do talk.” Greta eyed up Mark. “and that’s quite kind O’ ye. I’ll be putting you to work then in a while.” She glanced back towards Francis. “After you gets cleaned up.” Returning her gaze to Mark. “Head on through the kitchen to the back yard there. You’ll find a wash tub and a couple of buckets. Well’s a ways off, but a straight shot, so you’ll need to haul the water from there. No problem for a strapping lad like yourself.” She batted Marks arm playfully.

“Thank you kindly Ma’am.” Mark nodded. “We’ll get right on that.”

Mark pushed back from the bar and headed towards the kitchen.

Francis watched him go. “A saint, that man.”

Mark turned around, walked back, and grabbed Francis by the arm. “’We’ll’ get right on that.” Emphasizing the ‘we’ll’.

Francis gave Greta a pained look. “I tried.” as he was dragged off his stool to join Mark in fetching water.

----------------

a few minutes earlier.

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Paul and Tim had made their way to Bernard's table. The serious guard was eyeing them as they approached, resting his spoon on the lip of his bowl.

Paul opened with. “Tis luck that we meet again Bernard sire. Would you mind if we joined you this merry eve?”

Bernard raised an eyebrow before nodding towards the empty space in front of him. “I take it things went all right with the guild?”

“Nary a thing to worry about.” Paul sat.

The author's tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

“Wouldn’t say ‘nary’.” Tim joined him on the bench which creaked. “Group of toughs were looking for trouble, had to turn them down.”

“Our Tim here was too enticing for his own good.” Paul smiled at Tim placing a hand on their shoulder. “It speaks to our good fortune that he is still with us.”

Bernard gave them a slow nod. “Keeping your friends close is important.” and took another bite of his stew.

A moment of awkward silence encompassed the group. Bernard chewed his food. Tim broke it by asking. “So where’s Gil at? Haven't seen you two apart much.”

“We’re not joined at the hip. It’s a job. Me and mine are contracted to the caravan.” Bernard explained. “Gil’s probably out being wined and dined by the mayor or something.”

“Oh, so you and yours have been around a bit.” Tim began. “Any advice for dealing with goblins? We’ve taken on a job from the guild.”

Bernard broke off a piece of bread and dipped it in the bowl of stew. “Wouldn’t worry too much. Strength like a child. Hit em hard enough and they go down easy. Haven’t had to deal with them overly much on the caravan job. They mostly stick near settlements, caravan moves too often for them to setup.”

“That’s a relief.” Tim nodded along. “Anything else for the adventuring life? We’ll be moving around a bit trying to get our bearings. Working on the ol’ memory you know.”

Bernard chewed his food in contemplation. “Good straps.”

“Straps?” Paul asked.

Bernard continued. “Good straps. Good straps to keep your gear from shifting about. If anything moves, it clanks, it makes noise, you get heard. Get good straps and nothing moves, it sticks to your body like a second skin, makes things easy to carry. Get good straps.”

At the back of the Inn Mark had just hauled Francis off into the kitchen.

“aha, I spy that mine good friends have struck some deal with the proprietress.” Paul stood up. “twas a pleasure speaking with you Bernard. We will see about our friends now, and I wish you well.”

Bernard gave a wave to Paul, and a handshake to Tim. “Best of luck out there. We’re in town for tomorrow as you know, but leaving the morning after. Stay safe.”

Together, Paul and Tim walked to the kitchen and followed the sounds of Francis complaining. Stepping through the doorway they found a relatively primitive kitchen. Stone oven, wooden prep table, and pantry cabinets. A selection of metal tools hung on hooks within easy reach of anyone who would be working there.

The two stepped out into the backyard to meet up with the other two.

“So what’s the deal?” Paul looked towards Francis.

“I swear she woulda just given us it, but Mark here just had to volunteer us for cleaning duty.” Francis raised his hands in consternation.

“It was the right thing to do.” Mark pointed out. “Just because we have nothing to our name doesn’t mean we don’t have hands that can work. Besides, you’re just complaining because you were trying to get out of this part of it.”

“Do you have any idea what it would be like?” Francis crossed his arms. “The buckets come up to your calves, but it’s my waist. It’ll be a nightmare for me to carry.”

Mark looked over to the befuddled Paul and Tim. “Couple of chores to do is all. We’re getting water for cleaning ourselves from the well.” Mark pointed at the wash tub in the middle of the yard. “Then we’ll check in with Greta for the next thing.”

Paul glanced down at his spindly arms and said. “I think this is a point where we divide up duties as needed. I’ll go to Greta and get started on dishes. Francis you join me and see about sweeping up or something.”

Tim nodded in agreement. “I’ll go with Mark here and fetch some water.”

The four split up for the second time that evening. Paul and Francis heading back inside while Mark and Tim picked up a pair of buckets each.

Mark and Tim walked into the road and spotted the well at a crossroads down the way. Surrounding it were a number of people also fetching water.

The pair started their walk in silence until Mark spoke up to ask. “Food smells good in there don’t you think?”

“Couldn’t tell you really.” Tim plodded along. “Sure I smell it, but it doesn’t smell ‘good’ or ‘bad’ to me.”

“That something we need to be concerned about?” Mark matched him step for step.

“I mean, it’s not like I hunger for human flesh, if that’s what you were worrying about.” Tim chuckled. “Just like that food didn’t...” Tim sniffs the air. “Entice...” Another deep nostril full. “Me like that...” His head hunted with his nose leading. “Alluring scent just now.”

Mark also gave a sniff, but couldn’t place any particular food scent around.

“Hang on, I gotta find this.” Tim continued sniffing.

As Tim went in search of something, Mark stayed near the odd dwarf who was following his nose.

Before too long, Tim found what they were searching for in the form of a blacksmith. The sounds of hammer hitting anvil rung out from the building. The cherry red glow of a forge open to the evening air. Standing over the anvil and working a piece of metal was a slightly lopsided man wearing a thick leather apron. His right arm, noticeably larger, was swinging the hammer with measured blows.

Tim approached and made a throat noise to get the mans attention.

The blacksmith looked up at the interruption frowning, but his expression changed upon seeing Tim. He set the piece of metal on the forge’s edge to keep warm and laid his hammer on the anvil.

“Well well well. Not something you see every day. In town with the caravan perhaps? What can I do you for?” The blacksmith wiped his hands on his apron and put his hand forward to shake.

Tim took the offered hand. “Just out doing chores actually. Me and my friend were fetching some water when I just caught a whiff of whatever you’re cooking up here.”

“Hah, cooking up.” The blacksmith laughed. “Just making some parts for the caravan. Brackets mostly, that and nails.”

“Anything you can spare for a hungry dwarf?” Tim pleaded.

“Can’t say no to a face like that.” The blacksmith grinned. “I’ve got a scraps bin you can have a handful from if you’re not too picky.” They stepped away to fish out a wooden box filled with twisted bits of black metal.

Tim took the box and gave it a sniff. Pushing pieces aside they stopped on one that was particularly dark, about the length and size of their pointer finger. Lifting it out they gave it a tentative lick. The flavour of iron was closest to a nosebleed dripping onto Tim’s lips. A metallic sting that in Tim’s mind was surprisingly good. The blackened carbon dust buildup on top gave it an almost sugary zing. Tim might have been hungry.

A few appreciative smacks later. Tim asked. “Piece of coal to go with it? We’ve taken the goblin job from the guild. Going to be hungry work.”

“Yeah that’s alright with me.” The blacksmith pointed at the coal pile next to their forge.

Tim picked up a piece from atop the pile. “Thanks for this Sir. We’ll let you get back to it. Come find us at the Cup and Crow if we can repay the favour somehow.”

“Couldn’t let a hungry dwarf starve now could I?” The blacksmith returned to his work with the once again red piece of metal.

As Tim and Mark returned to the street. Mark had to ask. “So you eat metal?”

“It’s kind of like jerky if you think about it.” Tim bit into the metal, which deformed and snipped off to be chewed. “I’m made of hematite, so this is just cooked ‘me’ as I see it. The coal is more like a sweet.”

“At least you’re going to be easy to feed.” Mark noted.

“Eh, maybe not.” Tim contemplated. “Sure in town here, or at a coal mine, no problem. But coal and metal don’t exactly spring up in the wilderness. Not too many wild coal bushes, or metal deer running around.”

“Could be.” Mark shrugged. “We don’t know that.”

Tim raised their finger and opened their mouth to talk, but stopped before slowly resetting as the point made hit home.

The well was their next stop. A number of people were currently in line operating the bucket and rope contraption to bring water up. Mark and Tim’s turn took a bit longer than most because they had four buckets to fill.

Mark had filled his while Tim was getting started.

A group of older ladies called out to Mark. “You’re a new face in town. Been here long?”

Mark stiffened and turned towards the speaker. “Not too long ma’am, came in with the caravan. Just getting some water for cleaning ourselves up.”

The lady speaking looked surprised. “Giving yourself a wash eh?” waggling her eyebrows “Doing a public showing maybe?”

“Margret!” another one of the ladies spoke up. “That’s scandalous that is.”

“So what!” Margret turned. “Can’t have a bit of fun no more is that it?”

“You’re married is what it is.” The lady spoke.

“Aye that I am.” Margret turned back to give Mark a long look up and down. “Makes me more appreciative is all.” Quickly turning back to their friend. “Of the bathing part, you see.”

The two continued to bicker between themselves as Tim finished bringing up his last bucket of water. “Got it, we should get going.”

“Yes, right.” Mark agreed and hauled up his own two buckets as the pair walked off.

The final note on the ladies argument that reached Marks ears was. “I’ve got daughters you know! It’s a mothers duty.”

----------------

A few minutes earlier, again.

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“I hate washing dishes.” Francis took a proffered dish and dried it with the rag he was holding.

“Yeah, well, not every chore gets to be earth shatteringly important ya know.” As Paul picked up another dirty bowl to scrub food from.

And the two washed dishes.