When I woke the next morning, I spent a couple hours cleaning my room. I’d become far more comfortable than I’d realized, even with my best efforts I couldn’t make it as clean as I normally tried to. The mail of my helmet clinked gently against the metal scales on my hip as I closed the door to my now passable room.

  My boots felt loud against the wrought metal of the spiral staircase into the common room, but the clamor of the breakfast rush drowned out my steps by the time I got to the first floor.

  Patrons called for ale. Silverware clattered and scrapped against ceramic. Servers danced past me as I saddled up to the bar and onto what I now thought of as ‘my stool’. Widow was in the middle of serving someone ten seats down, but still spotted me as I sat and waved.

  It didn’t take long for her to finish up with her guest and head back into the kitchen. When she emerged, it was with a large tray in one hand and three drinks in the other. It didn’t take long for her to place a drink and plate of food in front of the guest she’d just spoken to, a petite woman near me, and finally in front of me before she was off again to serve another patron.

  The food was as good as it always was. By the time I’d finished my plate, the breakfast rush dwindled to a bare dozen people. Most having already left for work. A contented sigh escaped my lips as I pushed my plate forward. Before my fingers could even leave the dish, Widow was there with a smile on her face to take my dish into the kitchen.

  I wasn’t sure of the etiquette in situations like this, since every time I’d visited another village, I stayed in the barracks rather than an inn. But I’d already paid for everything and figured the proper thing to do was to just leave. Widow was a business owner after all, not a family friend.

  “Hold on a moment Bran!” Widow called from the kitchen.

  I did so and put my tablet laden pack back down beside my stool. When Widow entered back into the common room, she dusted off the apron she always wore during service and hung it on a peg by the doorframe into the kitchen.

  “Where you off to?” She asked, taking a seat on her worn padded stool.

  “Dustreach. My steward has a campaign all planned out over there.”

  “Exciting! This your first time on campaign?” She asked with maternal excitement.

  “As an adventurer, yes, been on other campaigns before.”

  “Well, your first campaign as an adventurer is exciting stuff nonetheless!” Widow enthused. “Tell you what, why don’t I give you a quest of my own?”

  “I’d be honored. You’ve been more than a generous host during my stay.” I agreed.

  “That I have. Don’t think I didn’t notice the rock dust outside your window.” Widow said with a pointed stare towards the two carved tablets on my pack. “Will you be going into the Under Tunnels while you’re in Dustreach?”

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  “We are.” I said, cautious now. I knew very little of the Under Tunnels and didn’t want to distract too much from the quests Maggie had planned.

  “Great! There’s this spice that only grows down there called Wuva Leaf. Get me a decent sized jar of the stuff and I’ll give your entire party room and board for a week on the house.”

  Ah, the party of adventurers or mercenaries I’d seen during the first couple of nights made a lot more sense now.

  “I can do that; do you know how to harvest it? I’ve never even heard of Wuva Leaf before.”

  “You shouldn’t need to harvest it honestly. It’s a staple for both the goblins and aranae. You’ll probably just be able to buy some. If not, when you harvest the leaf, just make sure you take the whole stem. Ruins the flavor if you snap it off halfway,”

  “I don’t mind doing that, but I should warn you I have no idea when we’ll be back. I won’t be able to give you an exact date I can give it to you.” I said.

  “Not a problem. Wuva Leaf preserves really well as long as you keep it dry. It should last a couple of months.”

  “Got it.”

  “Anything else I can do for you before you leave for your first grand adventurer?” Widow teased.

  “There is actually. You wouldn’t know of any courier services that deliver to the Weeping Forest, would you?” I asked.

  “I don’t know any couriers that enter the Ocean, but I do head there every couple of weeks to pick some herbs. What do you want delivered?” She asked in return.

  “I’ve got a couple of stone tablets I want delivered to a village called Twin Oak; do you know it?”

  “Capital of the Grace Mother, right?”

  I smiled at Widow; I hadn’t expected her to know anything of the Cult. Occasionally, people in the higher tiers entered our borders to grab some resource, and usually we allowed it. So long as they respected the land.

  “It is yeah. If you could give these to a woman named Rose, I’d be extremely grateful.”

  “Sure, I know Rose. This’ll give me a chance to see her, anyway. I hear she has a new grandbaby. It’ll cut down your reward to five nights, though.”

  “You know Rose?” I asked and ignored her other comment.

  “Yeah, she stays here when she comes into town. Nice lady.”

  ~~~***~~~

  I left the inn a couple of hours later, two stone tablets lighter, having spent the time talking with Widow about my mom while trying not to reveal I was her son. I’d thought I’d done a good job until Widow asked some very pointed questions about Helena, and how my mom felt about her new grandbaby.

  When I got to the East Gate, Maggie, Mika, and Ellen were already there. They stood together off to the side of the main gate, talking to one another while Mika pointed to various spots on one of his golems.

  “Bran! Looking snazzy in your armor, big fella!” Maggie called as I neared.

  “Thank you. Are we still waiting on Nora?” I asked as soon as I was close enough to avoid shouting.

  “Yup. Nora’s probably going to be late. Her brothers are going to kick up one Hell of a fuss now that she’s leaving.” Mika answered.

  ~~~***~~~

  Nora turned a corner onto the main road with the regalness of a [Queen]. Spread out behind her was an entourage of six smaller versions of her. Her face a mask of regal determination, every step slow and measured. Occasionally, one of her siblings would come up and adjust something I couldn’t see past the crowd.

  When the crowd thinned and Nora’s entire frame emerged from the press, all her regalness vanished. Attached to her leg was a sniffling boy no older than six. His face buried in the seam in her pants. Her slow steps took on new meaning as she heaved the leg with the boy forward, and her siblings rushed forward to try and pry their little brother off.

  Nora stopped just outside the courtyard to the gate and crouched. Her brother pulling back just enough to not topple them. She cupped the boy’s cheeks and kissed his forehead, speaking soft words until the boy nodded and stood.

  His other siblings tried to get a hand on him, but before they could, he threw himself at Nora and she had to brace with a hand against a nearby wall to stop from tumbling into the dirt. She laughed and drew the boy closer into the hug.

  Eventually, the boy let go and Nora could say something to each of her siblings. She spent a quiet moment with each of them, whispering before she stepped away to talk to her next sibling.

  She spent the most time with her eldest siblings, a boy no older than fifteen and a girl around thirteen, before she took the two of them into a group hug. She pressed each of their heads into her shoulders and kissed to top of their heads. Her brother tried to protest but stopped after a token resistance.

  After one final round of goodbyes with each of her siblings, Nora pulled them all into a group hug that lasted a minute or more. When Nora made it to the group, we all spent a bit of time watching as Nora’s eldest siblings corralled the little ones into an orderly march back home.

  “I’m gonna miss them.” Nora said in a whisper, I don’t think I was meant to catch.

  Maggie gave her a small smile before she opened a holster at her hip and drew out a small book.

  We spent the next thirty minutes going over the goal of this campaign, as well as a last-minute inventory check.

  We left through a small side gate, our Adventurer’s Guild badges allowing us to avoid waiting behind a half dozen wagons trains. Before long, we began the long trek from Woodsedge to Dustreach.