The Guild

Daniel

Daniel looked down the hilly path that constituted Hilltown's main street. It hardly felt like a main street, being made of gravel with a few paving stones interspersed. It appeared much steeper looking down than it had felt going up. All the buildings were set crooked, relative to the street, in order to face upright on the hill. To do this, they all had triangular cobblestone foundations or basements. He became more and more disoriented the longer he looked. 

Daniel found a thin alleyway between the inn and the laundry. The inn had a large painted sign that featured what looked like a wild boar wearing a straw hat on a field of golden grain. The sign also had lettering that Daniel couldn't read, but he had been told it was called The Farmer's Sow Inn. It was the typical half-timber structure. It was painted forest green, most likely to stand out against all the other half-timber houses and shops. Yellow made more sense to Daniel, given the sign, but it was no matter of import.

The laundry was a simple wooden, open-air shop with several large basins of steaming water, washboards, and plenty o' wooden rail to hang sheets and shirts. The fabrics danced in the crisp autumnal breeze. The floor above was like all the other half-timber structures making the hollow below seem all the more striking. The shop was run by a kindly, rotund woman with several children chasing after her skirts. She smiled sweetly at Daniel as he passed, and he returned the acknowledgment. 

Daniel wandered down the alley, which was dark and damp, stale and cool. There was a black tomcat lazing on an old empty keg from the inn. Daniel stopped to scratch his chin. The cat seemed to be appreciative and nuzzled up against him, purring. He continued on down to the end of the alley. 

Frenchie had sent him looking for the Guide Hall. A group that called themselves Clockers. Some kind of mechanics or tinkers from the sound of it. It was supposed to be tucked away just past the alley in between Berta's Laundry and The Farmer's Sow Inn.  

And so it was. It was a squat little hall. More similar to a Viking longhouse than the half-timber structures on the main street. It had a little red door with a tiny golden bell on a swivel, dangling an attached string. 

Daniel approached and rang the bell twice without hesitation. Daniel shifted to the left of the door to avoid it swinging open into him. Immediately, the shutters on the window to the right of the door flew open. If Daniel had been there, it would have hit him. The shutters slammed shut, and the shutters to the left, directly in front of him, slammed open with enough force that it knocked him to his bottom. 

Starring directly at him, through the second window, was a mole wearing a giant spectacle. Well, it wasn't truly a mole. It would be more accurate to say it was a small man with distinctly mole-like features. His skin was ashen grey. He had a thick shadow on his chin, which culminated in great whiskers. There was something greasy on his cheeks. His nose was flat and vaguely star-shaped. He had disproportionately big hands, with sharp nails. His eyes were tiny black beads. Well, one was tiny, the right, because the left was greatly enlarged by the magnifying glass-sized spectacle that was held up to his eye by some contraption connected to his back. He spoke without bothering to move his lips. Daniel didn't think he would ever get used to that. 

"You must be Daniel-son. Come in. Come in." Daniel obliged, opening the red door and ducking inside. Fortunately, the pitched roof was tall enough for him to stand to his full height once within. Inside, on both sides of the hall, were little mole-men tinkering away on stools at long desks that ran the length of the long hall. Not all had star-shaped noses or spectacles, but they seemed to be the rule rather than the exception. Joining them were young boys who looked the part of apprentices learning from the mole masters. Most wore simple garb in earth tones. Some, towards the back of the hall, wore brighter yellow, red, and blue tunics. The floor was dirt, and not one person, Daniel aside, was wearing any shoes. He followed the bespectacled Mole in.

Daniel followed the bespectacled mole, who wore a radiant red tunic, down the deceptively deep hall to a desk at the end. The mole-man climbed into the tall wooden chair with great effort. He shrugged aside a pile of papers, tools, and gizmos resting on the desk. Daniel saw what looked to be a wrench, a music box, an hourglass, among many contraptions he could not name or ascertain their application. The mole-man settled into his seat and turned a dial that seemed to adjust the depth of his ocular device, no doubt to get a better look at Daniel. He smiled nervously. Frenchie had not told him nearly enough about this place and these people.

"So, Daniel-son, you want to learn what it takes to be a Clocker? Is that it?" The mole-men questioned.

"Yes, Sir, I'd certainly like to observe your work. If that's alright.." Daniel replied.

"No. No looky-loos in the guide hall. You either work or you leave," the mole-man stated, nonplused. He was now staring down under her spectacle at some blueprints on his desk.

"Then let me work. Apprentice that is. I have no skill, but I'm a fast learner." Daniel wasn't sure he would rather spend his time here than in the dungeons, but he had to learn more about this peculiar place and people.

"Let me see your hands, boy." The mole-man stretched out his short arms with giant hands and long pointed fingers. They only reached barely unto the desk. Daniel hesitantly reached across the desk and placed his hands in the mole-man's. He closed his eyes and began to feel Daniel's palms. He felt them silently for what felt like a minute, though it was surely much less.

"Hmm. Not a lot of hard labour on these hands. But they are the hands of a hard and diligent worker. Very well, Daniel-son. You may apprentice under me. My name is Guippi. I am the Grandfather Clocker of Hilltown. My family has been Clockers as long as any in Kelton. I will teach you what I can. I don't have time to make a true Clocker out of you, but I will train you diligently nonetheless. You will come here every evening, right around dusk. We will work until you must rest. I know you are not nocturnal. Then you will return before sunrise, as early as possible, for your second lesson. If you cannot handle this, I shall have to rescind my offer." Guippi inspected Daniel with his enlarged eye. 

It was a steep ask. He would have to leave right after dinner, work, sleep, work, and still fit in his training with Frenchie and the knights. "I'll do it. Thank you, sir," Daniel decided. 

"Capital, my boy. And please call me Grandfather. By the way, I hear you've met my daughter. Feel free to bring her along with you sometime. Now let's get to work." Grandfather Guippi began to riffle through the papers searching for something or another.

"Sure. Your daughter?" Daniel quizzically questioned.