"'Scuse me sir, help you find your way to your inn?"
The merchant looked up from his notebook at the approaching goblin girl, who gave a disarming smile.
"Oh, why...yes, I suppose so. I'm from out of town and the evening mists caught me a little further from my lodgings than I expected, so some direction would be nice. I'd hate to accidentally wander into an...unpleasant area on accident."
"Completely understandable my Lord, completely understandable. Y'see, what you want to do is..."
Several reviews of the directions later and at least one refusal to accept payment, and Ottor wandered away. It felt good to help people, it really did.
Glancing at the position of the sun, Ottor swore under her breath and picked up her pace. It was almost dinner time and she was late. She hated being late.
Just as Ottor turned the corner, she heard some shouting behind her and grinned. Of course she couldn't have accepted payment for helping that man. It would've made for quite the predicament if he'd reached for his coin purse while she was cutting it away from his belt.
Taking a few extra turns and making a few small adjustments to her outfit, Ottor didn't stop until she made it to the back entrance of Lamond's Lament.
Renatta looked up as Ottor entered. "Bread needs slicing," she said, nodding to a few stale loaves. "You'd best get started. Make sure to give some to those that already came through the line." While Ottor wiped her hands off, Renatta turned back to dishing up soup for the people offering their bowls.
The next few hours were a blur of passing out food, cleaning up dishes, and listening. People here didn't mind that Ottor looked so different from them. They were just happy that she was here, and now that real feeling of helping people was beginning to grow in Ottor's breast again.
Finally, the last guest left to find a place to sleep for the night. Renatta smiled her thanks and began brewing up a pot of tea.
Ottor shuffled out of her apron and picked up her own cup. "I got some donations for the kitchen," she offered, as she held her cup out.
Renatta paused for a moment as she finished pouring and gave Ottor a careful glance. "Someone gave you donations?"
Ottor took a sip and nodded vigorously. "Yup, some out-of-towner felt bad about kicking Ol' Budgie in the ribs earlier this week, wanted to do something to help him and other folks down on their luck out, you know..." she paused as she took a loud sip, "do some good."
Renatta put her cup down and pinched the bridge of her nose. "Oh Ottor...is this what you want to be? A common thief that scurries about?"
"Dunno what you're talking about," Ottor muttered, glaring sullenly into her mug.
"No, I suppose you don't, and the purse you'll give me will probably be your own, won't it?"
"Always is," Ottor muttered, pulling out and dropping a different coin purse on the table.
Ranetta sighed as she picked up the purse. "Yes, it is." The older woman glanced in at the amount. "Well, at least we'll be able to put some real meet in tomorrow's stew." Ranetta placed the purse back on the table. Looking up at Ottor, she added "This isn't good. You know that Desna doesn't teach..."
Ottor stood up abruptly. "Good is what you do, it isn't what you pray to!" The words came out harder than intended, and Ottor took a step backwards towards the door before speaking again. Quietly at first, but increasing in volume and confidence. "I do want to be someone. I want to be the one that went out and took away from all the bullies and monsters in the world so that people that have nothing can finally have something. And I'm not strong like some folks, I can't swing a sword or an axe as well, but I'll still do it, mark my words."
Ottor nodded in the direction of where tomorrow's Call for Heroes would take place. "I'm gonna get my call. It'll be my name they'll be shouting from the rooftops, just you wait." She turned and hurried to the door and stopped. "Thanks for the tea. Sorry I won't be here tomorrow night." With a grin, Ottor slipped out into the darkness to find her destiny.
