The donkey turned out to be a blessing in disguise. I’ve never seen a creature gobble up a pile of refuse with such gusto before, saving me a lot of trips outside. Now that the bulk of the job was done, I could start washing off the tables, chairs, walls and floors. The zen nature of the task allowed me a lot of time to think, though my mind kept swivelling back to to the same thought. Getting back at Captain Tubbins. I had no idea if that was his player name, or if it was just a cover name for his less than socially responsible actions. Before I could make him pay for his debauchery, I’d have to find him. The only clue I had as of now was what the landlady told me, but I suspected she knew more. They were pretty friendly last night, and this kind of indentured servitude didn’t seem like it could be a standard part of the game. Come to think of it, he came over to chat me up within minutes of entering the game proper. Did he have some sort of inside information? Or maybe this is a common starting point, in which case I’m not the first person to fall for this kind of trick.
Lost in thought, I failed to notice the young girl returning to replace the buckets of water I was using for cleaning. When our eyes meet, she’s about to bolt before I reach for her arm to stop her. She freezes at my touch, and I feel like a dirtbag.
“Please, don’t leave. I really need some information about what happened last night. I can’t remember anything after we talked about maths and counting on your fingers..”
She tries to pull away weakly before turning back towards me.
“I can’t talk to you, not without payment, and you’re not good for credit here. If the miss sees us not working, she’ll punish me.”
Glancing around the room to make sure we’re alone, I lean in to whisper.
“Just tell me quickly, am I being tricked? Is the miss and the captain in on it? I’m not the first outsider to be worked in this tavern, am I?”
She looks me in the eye, and with a scared expression she shakes her head. The second I let her go, she dashes away into the back room. With more food for thought, I keep cleaning. It takes me another two hours to finish the job, just in time for the noon lunch rush. A dozen farmers come in, fresh from the fields, carrying both the smells and the mud from a hard mornings work. I can feel my blood pressure rise as I see my wonderfully clean floors soil up as I notice there isn’t even a mat to wipe your feet on. A sudden pain exploding on top of my head lets me know the landlady wants my attention.
“Zucchiniface, go into the kitchen and fetch drink for the thirsty men. Betha will let you know which barrel to use. Afterwards, start serving the food. Today is dark bread, salt soup and jellied brain. Go on!”
I dodge another swing of her ladle by dashing into the kitchen. She may not have a stellar personality, but she sure knows how to promote hustle in her workers. I can feel a little tingle as I cross into the kitchen as a notice pops up in my HUD.
[Access granted to areas: Kitchen, Servants Corridor, Pantry, Beer Cellar]
Oh.. I wonder what happens if I try to enter an area I’m not allowed in yet?
The corridor leads to several other rooms, and end in stairs going up. In the kitchen I meet up with the girl, Betha, who is in the process of extracting brains from the jars they’ve been pickled in. A part of me feels nauseated by the thought. A more insistent part reminds me that I haven’t eaten in a while, and that I lost whatever food I had last night when I woke up. Without looking up, she gives me my instructions.
“Use the tray over there, the ones with mugs on them. Fill fifteen from the barrel closest to the stairs, the sixteenth from the barrel furthest away. Don’t forget which is which. When you get upstairs, go back to the main room, place the tray on the bar and give the last mug to the mayor. He’ll be the only clean person in there. And whatever you do, don’t start a fight.”
Picking up the tray, I try to start a conversation by introducing myself properly, but she waves me off. With difficulty, I manage to get the tray downstairs. It’s clearly designed for someone of larger stature than myself, making me struggle with balance down the stairs. The only source of light down here is an old oil lamp hanging in the middle of the room, with five large barrels lining one wall. I place the tray on a table and begin filling the mugs one by one. The liquid pouring from the first barrel is yellow-brown and smells of heavy yeast. There’s copious foam, but when I look at it closer, there are dark particles standing out from the white fluffy cover. Carefully checking that I’m alone, I have a small sip of the mug, regretting it immediately. Frantically coughing and spitting out the foul liquid, I careen into the table knocking over the tray, mugs and all. It takes me a few minutes to recover, by which time the horrible drink has soaked through the floorboards, leaving a wet stain. When I recover, I hurry to pick up the mugs, refilling them from the barrel. When I get halfway, the stream slows to a trickle, then stops, leaving me with eight unfilled mugs and no real explanation for my slowness. Eyeing the other barrels, I shrug and fill the rest of them up from the second one. Through a great act of balancing, I manage to ascend the stairs without any more issues.
Betha is finished preparing the dishes when I get back to the kitchen. The moment she sees me she rushes over to take the tray from me.
“You’re too slow, and the miss is really angry. I’ll serve them the beer, you bring out the food. Each tray serves three men, one plate per. Which one of the mugs is the mayors? This one?”
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She points to one of the mugs, and I mentally slap myself. I forgot to fill it from the special barrel. Keeping my face still, I nod, immediately turning to pick up a tray of food, following her path to the main hall. I arrive in time to hear a happy cheer, and the end of a speech.
“And for these things we are thankful, as every day. So let us raise a glass to the comfort and warmth of Thenida so she may ripen our crops and plumpen our livestock.”
Purposefully looking down, I start serving the closes table as everyone takes a swig from their mugs. I cringe internally as half the people in the room get a strange expression in their eyes, smiling wider than just a moment earlier. A man standing on a chair, the mayor I assume, has a terrible expression on his face, his eyes nearly crossing as he stares daggers, first at Betha, then at the miss, both of whom are oblivious to my faux pas. I hurry out of the room to fetch the next tray of food, only to run into the two women on the way in.
“You worthless dreg, I should sell you to the Candrid clan up on the hill. They know how to treat a sow like you. How could you embarrass me like that!”
The landlady hissed at Betha, her bony fist wrapped in the younger girls hair. I clear my throat to get their attention, to admit my mistake, but they push past me with a glower.
“And you, you get your ass out there and serve them. Get a move on, they have to go back to work soon, and cold food will not put them in the right mood.”
They leave up the stairwell before I can come clean, and I’m left with the task of feeding the remaining workers. I hurry up to make sure there’s nothing more to complain about, and begin clearing out as soon as they finish. By the time the last farmer leaves, there’s only me and the mayor left. He saunters over to me, trying no to get too close.
“So you’re the new fellow, eh? One of the captains friends?”
His grin tells me he’s aware of my predicament.
“You could say that, sir. I’d shake your hand, but..”
I show my filthy hands and he nods in understanding.
“I have to apologise for the mix up with the drinks earlier. That was all my fault, not Bethas.”
He looks confused for a moment, before understanding lights up his eyes.
“Oh that! Don’t worry my boy, an accident can happen to anyone.”
His words belie the reaction I witnessed earlier, but something tells me I should accept his gracefulness without making a fuss about it.
“While I have you here, sir, could you enlighten me a little. Are there any places here where I can learn farming skills? I’ve got plans for getting a small plot of land somewhere, grow produce for the hungry adventurers coming through these lands.”
He thinks about this for a little while, stroking his beard.
“If you were looking for training in animal husbandry, I’d send you to the Candrids. A fine family with strong stocks. For farming, I’d say just go to any of the outlying farms in the community. Most of them should be able to accommodate you. When you’ve paid your bills, of course.”
He pats me on the back and leaves me to my cleaning, all alone in the tavern. Thankfully it’s less messy than before, and I finish quickly. By the time I get back to the kitchen, I run into the other girl from yesterday. She seems much more dour, angry even. When she sees me, she scoffs audibly and turns away.
“Hey, I’m TeeCee. What’s your name?”
I try to engage with her, but she cuts me off.
“To you, I’m invisible. Stay out of my way, and don’t even think about setting me up like you did poor Betha.”
She pulls her apron aside far enough to show me a vicious looking dagger.
“Unlike her, I know how to treat opportunists like you. Now fuck off into the larder and fetch a side of beef.”
I hold my hands up in defence, and bolt as soon as she gives me an order. I notice another barrier as I exit towards the larder, and a new notification pops up.
[Access granted to areas: Outside, Larder]
The larder is an outside building, set up to protect meat and perishables from the elements. There’s clearly some kind of enchantment going on here, as the inside of the building is much colder than the outside. I pick up a large side of beef, and as I’m about to leave, I notice a glowing trap door, hidden under a barrel. I stop for a moment, considering investigating it. I am in a game after all. But considering the results of my last fuckup, I decide to check it out later instead. Getting back inside, I place the beef on the large cutting bench under a bunch of knives. The next hour is spent with a cleaver in my hand, learning the fine art of chopping meat into smaller meat. She resists all of my attempts to make smalltalk by either leaving the room for a while, or hitting me with an implement of sorts. The only detail I learn is her name, Yadra.
The landlady returns before the sun starts to set with instructions for dinner. Meat pies with vegetables, beer from the middle cask. The beef is to be prepared for roasting the next morning with the finest piece saved for the mayor. When I try to approach her to apologize for earlier and to take responsibility, she stops me from talking.
“You’re not entirely useless after all, stringbean. You have my permission to leave the inn and explore the town. Just be sure you come back by closing to clean up. You can have the last room on the right upstairs. Now leave the girls alone, they have work to do.”
Once again she leaves before I can clear up any misunderstanding. As she leaves, Betha comes into the room. Her hair, previously tied in a bun, hangs loosely now, covering half her face. When she sees me, she looks down and gives me a wide berth. Yadra puts her arm around her, and I can hear soft sobs as she glares at me. I slink out, feeling like a horrible person.