It was a perfect day for meditation when the silent retreat ended.
A cool crisp breeze rolled in over the participants as the afternoon sun warmed them up. For thirteen days, the distinctive taste of the salt mountain had been a constant presence for all involved.
A mix of people all sat together in calm silence for the entire time, attended to by the dwarvish clan that sponsored the event. It was made to be something that brought all of the races together.
Finley, the traveling wood elf trader, had used it as an excuse to reset himself after two years of traversing the four kingdoms. Tall and thin, his wood elf heritage made his skin slightly green hued. He felt eyes following him as he returned outside to the storage area where everyone had changed. They had spent most of their time in fellowship on that courtyard. The garish garb conflicted with his skin tone as he swapped the tanned robes of the faithful of Yil for his Tinker clothes.
Reds, purples and pastel colors joined ribbons that were meant to catch the eye of an observer and then keep it. He wrestled with his belt as the few dozen who had attended the event with him got their own clothing on. It wasn't hard for Finley to see the stares, but as usual, he ignored them. While he had been in the silent retreat, the Yil aligned dwarvish clan had been hard at work on his caravan and he was ready to see the result.
"Heading anywhere good, Tinker?" A weak voice spoke.
The dwarf was still in his robes. Finley nodded to the dwarf, clearing his own throat.
"Back to the Irumi kingdom, I imagine," he replied, his voice low. Neither of them had spoken for any reason for their entire time, Finley had expected the Dwarfs voice to be a bit more deep, with the salt and pepper hair looking to be more of a stylistic choice than a product of aging.
"Ah. Perhaps I might send a package to one of my cousins there. Would you have space in your caravan?"
Finley took a moment to take stock of the current situation. He shifted into his tried and true customer service persona. Then pushed on his storage skill to see exactly how much he could store. There was room in the back somewhere. That skill that he got from his Tinker job was paying dividends.
"I absolutely have the space. And since you helped during the retreat, this one is on the house. Of course if you want to sell me anything else, I had my eye on some of the salt here, I would give you the family price."
"Ah, you tinkers and your family. As a matter of fact I might just take you up on that. There's a lot more food here that we made for the other races, but it was mostly dwarves for this retreat so..."
"You salted any of the meat and kept the rest cold?"
"It's why we keep a cryomancer on staff."
"I'll be just down by the Yils Mount stables checking my pack horses. Bring whatever you have to sell down there and I'll sort it out."
The dwarf nodded and then turned on his heels and moved back towards the common area and the kitchens.
Finley stretched his jaw. It had been quite some time since he had talked to anyone. He grabbed his water skin and drained it before filling up. There would be time before he checked everything and he wasn't in any rush. Before long, Finley was walking down from the assembly area towards the little village that house the families that ran the retreat. The dwarfish huts all had a combination of stone masonry and thatched roofs. That gave them a uniform look and a generally planned aesthetic.
In the center of the town on the South side was the Yils Mount tavern. Several dwarves and gnomes fussed over animals in the stables. Finley went directly to his two bay mares, the large beasts stirring at his touch.
He rubbed the two animals down tapping into his druidic animal handling skills.
They were instantly alert and ready to go, having spent the time in the small pasture that fed all of the goats and cows that the dwarves kept. He checked their coats and their hooves, going over each beast thoroughly. A dwarf attendant dropped off two water buckets for them. The only problem with the height was the availability of water. Finley would be out, but he could fill up when he reached the lower lands at around midday. All of his travel through the four kingdoms was never too far from a place where he could bring his horses to drink.
A gnome with a riding crop and coveralls approached Finley.
"Ah Master Tinker, what a good morning. Your horses have both been such wonderful tenants. They are always welcome whenever you wish to return," the gnome in charge of the stables said, "and the lacquered paint has been redone on your caravan, none too soon. We replaced one wheel that was set to go within the short term and your whole fee for everything is ten gold pieces. Let me check my records; it says here that you've paid in advance?"
"A tinker is nothing without his cart or horses."
This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.
"Or family," the gnome said, "Shame that I cannae join you. But I-"
Finley clasped his arm. The gnome clasped back.
"Family forever. No matter if we stop for good."
"Tis good to hear, lad."
The gnome choked up, taking one look at the caravan and then attending to other matters.
The standard Tinker wagon badly needed repairs. With a potential war on the horizon, Finley had done the prudent thing and found a place to lay low and do repairs. He had been happy to find a tavern bearing the marks of the family-one that a tinker would always recognize.
When he asked about if they could fix his cart, he hadn't expected much. They had far exceeded his expectations.
Finley checked the doors on the back. They had even changed one of the hinges that had been a problem. He was a bit light on goods now since he had intended to unload a lot on his way, but the ratio of gold pieces to saleable merchandise had been off kilter towards the working capital side for his entire trip to the mountains. Not that he minded, as he could fend for himself, but it was difficult to eat gold pieces, if not impossible.
"They got the rear door to stop squeaking when opened?" He muttered to himself.
He then checked the wheels. The proper tinker procedure was to kick them once and see if they moved. His were solid. The replacement wheel was painted the same color as the other ones.
The rear right corner of the caravan held the secret markings that gave other tinkers notice. They had, of course not disturbed it. He felt it over with his hands making sure that all the runes were in place. When he touched them, they sang to his inner spirit.
Only family could hear that sound. Only family could make more family. When you hear the noise you knew that wherever you were, you were home.
With the wheels done, he inspected the undercarriage. All of his axles looked in order. On the front of the caravan, his seat had been freshly lacquered. The wood looked like it had just been done up but he knew better. That was an effect made by a master artisan. He had seen the kind of effect before, and even sold a few Master work pieces. They all came with certificates of validity and a story.
Sometimes you only had the story to go off of. They still sold. High-end knick-knacks were the candy of the cousins of royalty and members of the Court.
Finley had played the role of Candyman more than once. He briefly considered tracking down whoever had done that particular portion and seeing if they had anything that he could buy. He started to spin up a story in his mind of a dwarfish outcast who had left to seek redemption up in the Yil Foothills. The dwarf would then have lots of drama surrounding leaving a dwarf hold that had supported him into becoming a master worker, and then as is custom, he would have left to seek his fortune. There would also be a bit there about how he turned down a princess, after something valorous happened. Finley was confident that he could workshop that piece on his long ride.
The dwarf from the retreat had showed up when he was done working with his axles. He had brought two wheelbarrows and an assistant. Both dwarves sat down to watch as Finley inspected the first wheelbarrow.
"This is the package for my cousin. You'll see his address on right there. I greatly appreciate the assist. I brought some other goods that I think you might be able to sell down there. Salt, salted meats, an ice block that my cryomancer swears will last for at least two weeks. That part is on the house, mind you because I've also brought some deer and goat that you should be able to pass off as well. We had a good season as of recently, and since we haven't had a lot of guests, we're fully stocked. Honestly you're helping us out a bit here just by taking this off our hands. We really expected more people in the tourist season, but it's been quiet."
"I'll buy the lot of it."
Finley inspected the two wheelbarrows that have been brought down. All the meat looked good, and the salt, though heavy would not spoil. There was enough meat there to last Finley six to ten months on his own.
"Do you need any help loading up, elf?"
"No, just unload there and I'll have at it. Thirty gold pieces good for the lot?"
"How about thirty five? Since you're already loading it up and all."
"Everybody wants the friends and family discount. Thirty two?"
"You've got a deal."
Finley pulled out his purse and began counting coins. He was hoping to get a rank up for his Tinker job anytime soon, but this wasn't enough to cover it. It was so close that he could almost touch it.
They quickly and methodically put everything into the back of the caravan. The dwarf and his assistant placed everything in neat piles. Finley checked that the piles wouldn't collapse under normal wear, then checked that they were there in his storage skill. He could see all the items there. Everything seemed to be in order.
"Thank you for your business. I appreciate it."
"This gold will go a long way towards helping the upkeep of the retreat."
The two clasped hands. The taller, lanky elf having to reach down to do so.
"May you find safety upon your route," The dwarf said.
"May you find happiness in your time," Finley replied.
Once again Finley found himself alone. He pulled himself into the driver's seat and found it to be as comfortable as he had expected. His elvish throw pillow was underneath the bench that made up his seat. He packed some water and unloaded all of his personal effects save his coin purse into the ornate storage unit.
He grabbed the harnesses for the horses and went over them, looking for any problem areas. Then he turned them around and grabbed the first of his two horses.
The first mare accepted the harness readily and he walked the horse over to hook her up. The harness attached to her chest and looped up and around. The network of straps connecting the horse with it's many buckles of loops and lines fitted the mare perfectly and he took care in it's placement. Then he grabbed the second mare and did the same.
"Ready, girls?" He said, upon connecting the last loop.
Both horses snorted approval. The caravan was out of the tavern, his repairs were paid for and he was ready to go.
With a gentle pull on the reins, he spurred the mares into movement, steering them towards the gently sloping downhill that led out of town.
The dwarves and gnomes in the village waved as he passed them, his horses going at a steady clip. With the downward slope he would be able to move a lot faster towards the Dwarvish Kingdom.
The retreat leaders words sounded in his head.
'Let this small moment of peace ripple forward in your life.'
---
Five hours after he had left the town it became one of the final outposts of the enlightened to be taken by the zombie horde.