Despite the increasing patrons for the dining hall/tavern of the Guildhall, not to mention the roughness of the adventurers themselves, the service was impeccable. Several young men and women, all wearing the same uniform as my own waitress, went between the various tables and the kitchens, taking orders and bringing out meals. Once the diners occupying a table finished, some either stuck around for drinks and conversation with their companions, but others headed over to the payment counter, their table's number, written on a wooden block, in hand. There, they were able to pay for their meal, and the servers quickly cleared away their table and gave it a quick wash. Just like that, it was ready for the next patron. However, thanks to the sheer number of tables, there was always several open, and no one had to wait.
It wasn't long before the waitress who took my order returned, a steaming dish in one hand, and a mug in the other. She set them both down in front of me, "This is a juice made from Aluru fruit. We're thinking about adding it to the menu, so it's on the house tonight! Just let us know what you think of it, 'kay? My name's Salima. What's yours?"
"O-oh, thank you very much… P-please, call me Ami." The smell of the ravioli was made my mouth salivate. It had hints of dairy, likely from the sauce, and the wondrous scent of the filling inside mingled with it. The heat from the steam warmed my face, forcing me to recognize the chill in my body. Though we were approaching the end of spring, it would still be a couple of weeks before the chill in the air that surrounded the mornings and evenings went away entirely. While the room itself was warm, as was the rest of the building, a distinct chill emanated from the nearby window.
"Ami? That's a pretty name. I work most of the meal hours, but I have Everday off. If you are ever free then, we should totally hang out! I'm constantly surrounded by sweaty old men, so it'd be a relief to spend time with someone more my age." Her invitation was spoken, she didn't wait around for a response. Instead, she headed to another table, continuing on with her work. She was probably only a year or two older than me, and yet she went about her responsibilities so diligently, without any prompting from those around her. One day, I want to be someone who can be relied on like that… With that in mind, I resolved to force myself to re-adjust to interacting with others. I hadn't stuttered at all when I was younger, so I was fairly confident it was something that would fade with a bit of effort on my part.
The days of the week went as such: Merday, Lunarday, Flareday, Plainsday, Foretday, Everday, and Spiritsday. Everday and Spiritsday were most common as days of rest, but typically, Spiritsday was most popular. Worship ceremonies were held then, and it was said that the connection to the spirit realm was thinner. However, as I was not a Spirit magic user, I couldn't say definitively one way or another. It certainly didn't seem outside the realm of possibility, especially as various holidays were held on days when that connection was especially thin, allowing easier interaction between us and them.
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Not wanting to risk the ravioli cooling too much, I picked up the fork and took a bite. She was right… This sauce is amazing. It was creamy with a hint of cheese and citrus, which went well with the meat and vegetable medley inside the pasta. If I ever saw it being served again, I would definitely have to get it. It was hearty, but the sauce really went a long way towards making it feel like it wasn't too much. Setting down my fork, I reached for the cup of juice and brought it to my lips. There, too, I was surprised by how much flavor was packed into something seemingly innocuous. The juice was smooth, and the flavor was as if someone had combined watermelon, strawberries, and peaches together and added cream. There was almost no hint of sourness about it, and it wasn't overly sweet. It was refreshing.
As I was finishing up, Durin finally came into the Guildhall through the main door. The sun had nearly finished setting, and a greyness that seemed to blur everything into a cohesive state of unrecognizability had settled over the outside world. Splotches of dried blood spotted his armor, a full suite of heavy steel, or perhaps something of even higher quality. My guess was right. Yeah, this definitely suits him more than lighter armor. The armor suited him, and I didn't miss the slight blush that crept over Miss Lorna's face as the two spoke. I finished my meal and quickly paid at the counter, making sure to compliment both the ravioli and the drink. Surprisingly, the total came to only three bronze, the same as my mystery skewers the night prior. When I mentioned it to the employee, I was told low-ranking adventurers were given discounts, but those who ranked higher were charged more. Part of some program 'to make sure everyone eats their fill' the current Guild master enacted as soon as he took up the position.
I appreciated it. While I could afford a higher price, it would leave me with even less money for an inn. Eventually, I wanted to be able to purchase a new set of clothes and armor. Then there's my daggers. While they were well maintained, they wouldn't last very long in the face of actual combat. If I wanted to be able to take on better requests ever, I would need new ones. I did have another dagger hidden in my raggedy dress. This one was worth a small fortune. The blade itself was made of platinum and enchantments. While platinum wasn't normally a very popular metal as it's very weak, it was highly conducive for magic and, in turn, enchantments. While I didn't know the details, I figured it had to at least be spelled for strength and sharpness. The hilt was inlaid with silver and magic crystals.
While I always kept it on my person, I made sure it was always hidden from sight, and I never used it. Doing so would likely only serve to make me an attractive target for theft and unwanted attention. It's the only thing I have left to remember my parents. I don't want to lose it.