Konrad ML.
Konrad’s Day in a Life Piece,
My name is Tobias Trey, I work in a tavern day and night. I find this a hard job but when it’s a job you love it halves the work. And it makes it even easier if I have someone to help me. My nephew, Thomas Trey, has had a hard life in the past, he is now twenty one but when he was just a boy, the age of eighteen and below, his father abused him. He beat him in ways not imaginable from a father. Ever since he has lived with me. Still feeling sorry for him, I want him to know that he has to work, and make a living. I’m getting older now and I have already worked for decades in this business but I can’t do it for so much longer. He is talented and he likes the business, he doesn’t quite know this but I want him in the business, I think he even wants to live the life of a tavern owner himself. For now he is still silly and careless that’s why he’s only a bartender.
A typical day is a friendly day, I wake up with the rooster call, Thomas is already downstairs and has bought the daily bread from the bakery. I dress myself in my typical wear: I have a pair of casual shoes to walk around but not to show off; good working pants so I can look presentable but also do the everyday chores and get dirty; my shirt is also casual and depending on what I’m doing maybe I wear an apron over that. I always have my handy pack of cards with me to amuse the guests, I used to do magic tricks to entertain them while they waited for their food, now Thomas does that, he can perform tricks I never knew existed. He sometimes practices these tricks on his breaks. After the day of hard work serving our guests I get to sleep. Normally I’ll go to bed at nine on a weekday because I have to get up early the next morning. Although on a weekend I can sleep in, as the guests usually do as well, and so I might be in bed a bit later.
Our tavern, the Armored Dragon, is the center of our town, it’s the main spot for socializing and a place where everyone is equal. Although the upper class may think themselves superior, in our tavern there is no such thing as upper class, lower class or even middle class. In the Armored Dragon everyone is equal, we are our own society. When my great grandfather started the family tavern line it was the only tavern in the new world, his tavern was becoming the center of attention. Then my father came along, an arrogant, terrifying man. He believed his tavern should only be for the upper, superior class. He didn’t get many visitors. But now I’m here. If I may say so myself, my tavern has been the best so far. Beloved by all classes and races, my tavern is the town’s social point. Someone comes to good ol’ Williamsburg, they have got to go through the Armored Dragon. They will always get a good greeting from the townspeople there and a good place to spend the night. And soon I hope Thomas can take that place as a tavern owner as well, and all the Treys after him.
The Armored Dragon is a great and loving place as it is, but when too many people come to stay, there’s always a bit of trouble with the sleeping arrangements. We have eight beds. Four for the gents and four for the ladies. If we have, say more women and less men one night, we make one bed dedicated to the women that was originally meant for the men. Although this sounds well planned out, if there are just two too many people, it becomes extremely crowded in the beds. In many taverns the rich can pay their way out of having to sleep with the poor or simply any other people. Not at the Armored Dragon, no one here can pay anything more to get something of a higher quality. Only the horse sleeping arrangements can be upgraded. Even with food, we serve two different but simple meals, one of which is more oriented towards meat and one made of vegetables and fruit. If that does not fit your comfort we’ll suggest somewhere else to eat, or you can buy something and bring it here. The only problem with that is if you want to get a loaf of bread here and you’re already sleeping here, it’s going to be cheaper than say getting that loaf of bread at the local bakery in Williamsburg. Eating is a large part of our tavern, we always have a different smell for dining, be it jasmine or cloves or even something completely different. Thomas always has had a way with smells, he always picks the perfect smell for eating and sleeping. He also knows exactly what the people will want to eat by just looking at them. It sure is good having him around, helping with all the work I can’t do anymore now that I’m nearly fifty.