If Drask had to use one word to describe his first day at work, it would be "Stressful". Most of the work had been under the supervision of a more experienced staff-member, but that didn't ease his worries. Several times he nearly dropped the serving tray he was holding, and twice he wrote down the wrong order was promptly scolded by both the customer and his supervisor. It was hard work. Drask was more accustomed to (and raised up for) hunting wild game in the cold tundras up north. That kind of work required a great deal of physical strength and stamina. Lots of stamina. His current job required much of that as well, but it also required much emotional and mental stamina. Having to deal with drunk customers, endure lectures, and avoid breaking dishes was enough, but the fact that he was nearly suffocated by the aroma of freshly cooked meals made it worse. Drask was use to starving in the frozen mountain-sides, but here where the food is just within reach... Oh, how cruel She can be. Drask let out a long sigh, pressing himself against the tiled wall of the ever-busy kitchen. A mess of people, pots, and pans strewn across a shockingly large space. At least, it seemed huge given the sheer number of things crammed into it. The owner of the Dragon spared no expense when they built it, as even the kitchen was decorated with paintings of past chefs, multicolored tile walls, and extremely meaningful-looking pieces of cookware. Even the floor seemed to sparkle. Drask felt honored to be able to work in such a fine establishment. Another waiter rushed past him with several trays along his arms, expertly balancing them with little effort. He shoved his back against the door and entered the bustling crowd of people, the smell of Dream Smoke and expensive wine wafting in from the open door. He glanced hopefully out the door, hoping to catch a glimpse of Ever. His stomach twisted as he thought of the night they were together, and what he had said to her afterwards. He felt like such an idiot for forcing that sort of thing upon her, expecting her to automatically agree with him. They had spoken several times while he had eaten at the Dragon, before he was employed, but Drask felt awkward to say the least. A bell rang it the distance, signaling the arrival of night, its 9 chimes somehow overpowering the sounds of the kitchen. "Just one more bell, and I'm off" he thought to himself, letting out a long sigh and pushing off the wall. Back to work. He pushed his way through the door and looked out across the sea of faces, spotting several tables that needed to be cleaned, and others that were occupied with waiting customers. Choosing to deal with the latter, he walked towards an occupied table and pulled out a small piece of parchment. "Greetings! What can I be helping you with tonight?" he asked, his thick, northern accent extremely obvious. |