The Dauntless

"Fair enough," Django says with a small, slightly nervous laugh at the spring-onion-versus-leek comment. "Anyway, hi. Django. What do you need done..?" he asks, trailing off a little to try and catch the guy's name.

"Thomas," the volunteer responds with a grin. "I'm guessing Renata has you on soup duty? That's where she usually puts newbies. Just keep an eye on it for me while I'm dicing, then when it's done I'll have you carry it over with me."

"Sounds good!" Django says with a smile, then sets to watching the soup.

Some time later, after much adding of ingredients, tweaking of spices, and simmering, Thomas takes a sip of the soup, nods, and proclaims it done. After hauling the heavy pot to the serving station, he dusts his hands off. "Alright, should be good to go. We open in fifteen, bowls are here, serving ladle is here. I'm gonna go get started on dessert, any questions?"

"Nah, thanks for the pointers, Thomas. I appreciate it," Django says with a grin before starting to ladle out bowls of soup. Catching the eye of Father Carondil, he steps up next to him and starts laying out bowls. "Afternoon, Father."

Father Carondil nods as Django steps up, although he doesn't take his eyes off of the salad he's finishing by tossing it in a vinaigrette. "Brother Django. A pleasure to see you here. I trust from the lack of either terror or bread on your face that you've yet to cross Ms. Gilroy?"

"Doing my best to be as helpful as I can while keeping as wide a berth as possible," Django says with a laugh. "Anyway though, Father, I'd been meaning to talk with you, if you have a moment. Otherwise, I can come find you back at the Dreamhouse later."

"Well, as you may or may not know," Django starts, "My associates- the Dauntless- and I recently came into ownership of Citadel Altaerein and have started working to fashion it into a base of operations for the times we're here in town, and I'm wondering if you'd consider taking me on as a semi-permanent clergyman at the Dreamhouse, because I'd be more than happy to help around the temple and get a feel for actual priesthood when we're not away on other business."

Father Carondil nods, smiling gently. "I would be happy to take you on. Much like dreams, the priests of Desna come and go fluidly, and there is always a place for more amongst the shepherds of the flock."

"That's fantastic, Father, thank you so much!" Django says with a big, excited grin. "Looking forward to helping however I can."

A few minutes later, the doors of the soup kitchen open, and a few dozen people matriculate in over the next half-hour. While there are a few individuals who are clearly down on their luck, most of the benefactors are young individuals or families with young children. During a lull, Father Carondil explains that Breachill doesn't have a significant homeless problem, but there are several people who are underemployed or unable to fully make ends meet and come to the Lament to ensure they or their children get proper nutrition. When the shift is over and the last customers have left the building, Renata signals Django to come over to her. "Hey, sorry I wasn't able to greet you properly. Dinner rush is a real hassle. Renata Gilroy." She extends a hand.

The next contractor to employ was the woodworker, and so Dorrak, dressed in his nicer outfit once more, heads on down to Breachill Lumber to speak with Xandel.

"Brother Django Lovell of the Dauntless," Django says, clasping her hand with a grin. "Nice to meet you, Ms. Gilroy, it's a pleasure to be able to help out. My Pop owns a roadhouse down in Andoran and I forgot how much you miss serving when it's all you know."

Breachill Lumber is a sprawling log building just outside of town with a sizeable lumber yard out back. A muscular half-elven woman directs traffic outside as a crew of lumberjacks carry two full sized trees into the yard, accompanied by an ox-pulled cart full of smaller chopped logs and a motley assortment of individuals-two humans, a halfling, a catfolk and an orc with impossibly bright golden eyes, most of whom have weapons or armor. On the front of the building is a sign reading "Breachill Lumber Shop" over a window display containing an expertly crafted rocking chair, a dresser, and a driftwood table.

---

"A restaurant brat, eh?" Renata smiles and gives Django an appraising look. "Good. If you're planning on sticking around I could use someone who knows their way around a kitchen. Erasti knows these FUCKING MORONS don't." She shouts her insult for the benefit of the staff and volunteers as they finish cleaning their stations or gather their things to leave.

Dorrak looks at the lumber yard and guesses that Xandal might be the half-elf, but decides it would be polite to try the building first, so he opens the door to the store first and steps inside.

The shop is a cozy room with more display pieces of furniture and an older man with a short salt-and-pepper beard and about four fingers and a thumb across both of his hands missing and replaced by wooden prosthetics. He nods as Dorrak enters. "Welcome to Breachill Lumber," he says gruffly.

"Good morning," Dorrak greets him with a short nod, then gets to the point. "Are you Mr. Rynearsohn? My name's Dorrak Hakdarson, one of the new owners of Hellknight Hill. I'd like to hire him to lead some work on the interior of the citadel."

The man nods. "Yeah, but call me Xandel. Mr. Rynearsohn was a son of a bitch." He smiles humorlessly. "What kind of work are you looking to have done?"

"In that case, please just call me Dorrak," the half-orc replies with a low chuckle. "Specifically, the work is repairing or replacing the furniture, floorboards, and doors - helping us make the place livable again. It's been a while since anyone's lived in the upper levels."

"General surface work," Xandel nods. "Sounds easy enough. I haven't done much home carpentry in a few years but if you can supply a crew then I can get on it pretty quickly."

"We already have a crew ready, all they need is someone to direct them," Dorrak confirms, extending a hand across the counter to shake Xandal's.

Xandel reaches across and clasps hands with Dorak. "I'll look forward to it. If you've got a need for lumber I suggest you have a word with Narine outside. She handles that side of the business."

"I'll do that, thanks," Dorrak nods, then heads on out to speak to the forewoman.

Django gives a fake-nervous chuckle. "I'll do my best. Happy to check in whenever we're in town." Looking over to give a respectful nod to Carondil, Django asks, "See you around temple tomorrow then, Father?"