“Are you okay because you’re not supposed to be lying here and you seem like you know that so I’m guessing something happened.”
Allisse felt the sensation of a doll-sized person walking on her. Wren. “I don’t know what happened,” said Allise. “I was just walking along and I collapsed.”
Wren’s face went serious. “When did you eat last?”
Allisse’s head went fuzzy, she couldn’t remember. “Yesterday afternoon?” It was probably true.
Wren gasped.
“It’s okay.” said Allisse. “I’m used to skipping meals.” But the pixie was already gone. Had Allisse offended her? Allisse got herself to a sitting position. She was feeling weak. Usually the hunger didn’t get to her like this until she hadn’t eaten for a few days. What was going on? She needed to make a good impression today. And now she’d made herself look bad in front of another staff member. Why was her body failing her like this? She needed to set herself straight or they were going to fire her before her first day was over. It was probably too late.
There was a buzzing of tiny wings and she saw Wren return, a magic handful of something trailing behind her. She offered it to Allisse, palm up. Cookies! A handful of bite-size gingerbread cookies. Allisse ate one, and tasted the flavors of heaven as they flowed into her stomach and out through her veins. She’d never had anything so good in her life.
She opened her eyes and saw Wren eating a cookie herself, the tiny treat wider than her head, though she was working her way diligently to get through it as she fluttered in place.
“Thanks,” said Allisse. “These are amazing.”
“You’re welcome,” said Wren. “Elizabeth makes them for me because the magic and flying really wear me out and I need to keep my energy up so I’ve got my own personal cookie stash in the kitchen and if you ever get this bad again you take as many as you need okay?”
Allisse nodded and ate another cookie. Honey, ginger, finely sifted wheat, plenty of butter, and something else she couldn’t quite place. Delicious didn’t even begin to cover it. “Elizabeth was the one that got me this job.”
“Oh?” said Wren. Allisse ate another cookie while she waited for the torrent of words she expected from Wren, but the pixie wafted to the ground and sat, waiting.
“I was in the marketplace,” said Allisse, “looking either for a way to buy a meal with my last half copper or work to get enough to buy more food. Then I heard a halfling, Elizabeth I would later find out, ask me if I wanted to earn a silver piece. And I very much did. She had me load the cart with food from a few different stalls, and I was thrilled to have gotten a silver coin for just an hour’s work. So imagine my surprise when she handed me a second! Then she told me about the Alabaster Inn, how they were looking for people like me as pages. What did she say? Young, not afraid of work, know how to do things right. Anyway, she said to be here before daybreak the next morning and I was. But just barely.”
Allisse ate another cookie, “So, that’s when I ate last, yesterday around noon. I spent one silver coin to buy food for my family and a ribbon for my hair so I could look good for this job, and put the second in the medicine jar.”
Wren flew up, shocked. “Why did you go hungry when you still had money leftover, because what could be more important than eating?”
“My grandmother,” said Allisse. “She took me in after my parents died. But she’s come down with something. The apothecary’s guild said it was Cooper’s malady and the cure costs two gold coins, and we can’t afford that. I’ve been trying to save every halfpenny I can scrounge up, but every time I get some money together, something comes along, and it’s all gone. That’s why I took this job. I don’t think my grandmother has much time left, and I’m hoping I can save up enough before it’s too late.”
Wren let loose a small stream of tears onto the remnants of her cookie. “That’s so beautiful. I just work here because it’s never boring, well almost never boring but you work here because you have someone you love and that’s the most noble thing I’ve ever heard.”
“I don’t know about that,” said Allisse. “It’s just what you do. I’ve watched my grandmother pour her life into me even as the sickness was killing her, and I just couldn’t stand by and do nothing.”
“Excuse me,” came the low baritones of a dwarven voice. “I was told this was the Alabaster Inn, home of the finest customerrr serrrvice in the land. Perrrhaps I have come to the wrong inn.”
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Allisse stood up immediately, her fatigue replaced by a fresh wave of shame. “Of course, sir, I apologize.” The dwarf in front of her was finely dressed, his tabard intricately woven, his chainmail light and more for fashion than protection, and the smith’s hammer at his waist looked like it had never seen actual use. “What can I do for your lordship?”
“Lorrrdship? Hah! I wasn’t borrrn with a gilded name or bequeathed any estate. I earrrned everrry penny I own, thrrrough harrrd work or shrrrewd deals.
“I’m so sorry,” said Allisse.
“Well don’t apologize, make it rrrright. I have an appointment at fifth bell and we need to get rrrready beforrre that.”
He led her down the stairs to a bench between the main door and the dining room. “My warrres,” he said, gesturing proudly to the variety of weapons and armor lying in or around two side tables that had been moved together.
Allisse nodded and the dwarf continued. “Now, we’ll shorrrtly be meeting one of the most prrrominent businessmen in this city. I know my warrres like my own burrrow so let me do the talking. Yourrr job will be to hold up the items I call forrr and show them to theirrr grrreatest effect.”
“I think I can do that,” said Allisse.
“You think? Well can you orrr can’t you?”
“I can.”
“Then show me.” He handed her a sword and then began conversing with an imaginary customer on the couch. “This herrre is the latest in Dwarrrven crrraftsmanship, a longsworrrd without peerrr orrr equal.” And with that he looked at Allisse. She paused for a second, then realizing what he wanted, held out the sword. He shook his head.
“No, it’s more like this,” and he gestured at an invisible sword in his arms while smiling and tilting to one side.
Allisse tried again but the dwarf shook his head with a frustrated furrow in his temple. “Herrre, you intrrroduce the merrrchandise and I’ll show you how it’s done,” he said, taking the blade from her.
“This is,” Allisse paused, “a sword that’s nice and… um… made of steel.” She looked over at the dwarf who caressed the sword lovingly with the back of one hairy hand while swooning ever so slightly. He smiled with an exaggerated grin that looked almost like the rictus of death while adopting the mannerisms of a drunk man pretending to be a barmaid pretending to be a noblewoman. Allisse had once seen a statue of the eldritch god of chaos that had struck her with a horror that had not been exceeded until this very moment. “Trrry it like that,” said the dwarf, returning the sword to her.
The dwarf looked again at his imaginary customer. “I present to you the latest line of blades forrrged in the Flintspirrre Smithy.” He turned to Allisse. A wicked impulse seized her and she decided to throw all his ridiculous mannerisms back at him, the clown’s smile, the overexaggerated femininity, the ridiculous posture. Maybe that would teach him… something.
“Perrrfect,” said the dwarf. “Just keep doing that forrr the entirrre prrresentation and we’ll be able to move the bulk of the merrrchandise. You’ll earn yourrr tip today, girrrl, just you see.”
Soon, a finely-dressed elven merchant arrived and greeted the dwarf. They exchanged pleasantries, and then he sat to listen to what the dwarf had to say, and a pattern quickly emerged. The dwarf would name one of the arms from his shipment and Allisse would display it in that ridiculous manner, and then the dwarf would describe its superior construction, the reliability of his clan’s smiths and the reputation of their mark, the quality of the steel, and so on. The elf would get up, examine the weapon, ask questions, express skepticism, and then sit back down. The dwarf would then go on to explain how such a weapon was in high demand in this area, and would sell quickly and for excellent profit. The elf would nod, reservedly, and the dwarf would move on to the next weapon and the process would repeat itself.
All the meanwhile, a steady stream of patrons and inn staff were walking by, and every time Allisse thought she could not be more mortified, she was proven wrong. It started with her trying to gracefully show off a weapon to its fullest potential, but that weapon was an oversized greatsword and her muscles were straining from the combination of its weight and her pose. A bit later, Count and Countess Barania happened to descend the staircase just as she was doing her unintentional impression of a constipated goddess Auralina bequeathing the spear of ages. Thinneus arrived early to help get ready for lunch right as she was looking like an evil wizard had frozen her in time in the middle of an elegant dance with her loving heater shield, only if she were also mid-sneeze. The only saving grace was that this room lacked a mirror so she didn’t have to see her own ridiculousness.
At the end, the elf groused and dithered, but ended up agreeing that it made sense to buy the entire shipment himself so he could corner the market. He ended up with a bill of sale for the shipload of weapons still at the docks, plus all the samples they had on hand, with the entirety of Allisse’s dignity thrown in as a bonus. That last part wasn’t officially negotiated, but she had had some dignity when she entered the room and none when she left, so it must have been part of the transaction somewhere.
They all carried the samples to the elven merchant’s coach. He stayed behind to arrange them while Allisse and the dwarven merchant walked back into the inn, the latter chuckling. “I was cerrrtain he’d buy something, I’d hoped he’d buy most of it, but I was shocked when he bought everrrything. You werrre my lucky horrrseshoe back there girrrl.” He reached under his cloak and pulled out a bag.
Allisse perked up at the metallic jangling. Here was the payoff for all that work. He pulled a knife out of the bag with two fingers on the thin blade and handed it to her. “A stiletto, forrrged by my cousin himself. If anyone asks about it, tell them it’s Flintspirrre crrrraftsmanship.”
She took the tiny weapon and tried her best to feign polite happiness. His idea of fitting payment for all that humiliation was something she could stab him with?
Allisse made a halfhearted curtsy. “I was told I needed to help with lunch. If that’s everything you need from me, I should be on my way.”
“Of courrrse, of courrrse,” said the dwarf. “I told my companion back therrre if he gave me an hourrr of his time, I’d give him the finest lunch to be had in the city, and my worrrd is as solid as drrragonsteel. You do the serrrving and we’ll do the eating.” They were inside the front entrance now and the dwarf handed Lupin a few coins and said “Forrr my frrriend who will be sharrring a meal with me shorrrtly.” Allisse took the chance to make her escape.