Aunties Overnight

It was a faded sign that read, 'Auntie's Overnight,' written in Common with peacock blue paints, that caught the eye of the lanky druid. He paused outside the door and stared at the face painted on that sign: the face of a smiling woman. The sound of his fellow gift-gatherers around him nudged Epilo'josia out of his wonderment and into a slow walk toward the door beneath the sign.

The creaky door and the creaky floorboard certainly announced his presence more than any "Hello" ever could. Epilo looked around at the boarding-house main room: very quiet, a faded sofa, wooden chairs, a worn rug. He grinned a little when noticing there seemed to be no dust and the window sills were clean.

A sound from another room brought him spinning around. A woman emerged from a doorway and smiled at him. Epilo immediately recognized that this was the woman from the sign, but many years had passed since the painting.

"You must be Auntie." The druid spoke in Common.

She chuckled. "You must be new in town. Everybody knows me already. But you're here for the donations, is that right?" she asked, waggling a finger at the burlap bag Epilo'josia was carrying.

He'd nearly forgotten. "Yes," he nodded. "I'm here on behalf of the-"

"Oh stop," Auntie snipped. "Everyone knows what you're there for and why. They're over there, on the table." She waggled another finger toward a table made from an old ship's wheel, on which were several dolls.

"Thank you," Epilo replied as he walked to the table.

Auntie huffed. "The Captain carves 'em. I just make the dresses."

Having entered the front room Epilo could now appreciate the nautical theme Auntie had decorated the chamber in. He saw sailcloth and rope, a section of old deck railing, even a log book on the end table. The dolls were made from driftwood, but each doll had been crafted together from several pieces in a unique way. The dresses were hand-sewn and dyed. Little shoes had been painted on the toys.

"Can you hurry it up?" Auntie said. "We cater to the seafaring crowd here, and one guest in particular would not be pleased to see you standing here. No, he would not." Auntie had the same smile on her face but her eyes were less friendly and more accusatory. "The Captain has some powerful feelings about woodsies creeping out of the trees and coming to our town. Ill will follows the stranger to our town, that's what we always used to say about Greyhawk."

She looked the druid up and down. "The Captain, he can spot a woodsie from a battlefield away, and young man, you have a powerful smell of the wood about you." Her nose wrinkled a little.

"I'll have to burn some whale oil right quick before the Captain comes down for his supper. Otherwise he'll be in a mood all evening."

Epilo loaded the dolls into his sack carefully, trying to understand what had just been said about him. He turned slowly.

"Use the door," Auntie said, waggling another finger in that direction. The druid crossed the distance, stepped on the squeaky floorboard, opened the squeaky door, and barely made it out onto the street before it was slammed behind him.

Epilo saw other gift gatherers exiting other places of business. He joined them, still in a fog, and completed his task speaking only as needed and to as few people as possible.

River Quarter