The first thing Jarben noticed about the ominous tower in the distance was the unkempt look of it; moss growing from cracks in its stones, the uncut, dead grass, and the vermin that occasionally rustled the aforementioned grass. The very thought of whatever might've been slithering or squeaking in the overgrowth made his hair stand on end; being unable to see over it with his short dwarven stature didn't help comfort him, either. Only the promise of a thorough bath when he returned home allowed him to trek on.
Getting a closer look at the tower's decrepit state, the courier began to question if he had lost his way in the twisting paths of the forest, but his years in his profession had seared the paths firmly in his head, and he was sure he was nearing the same address labeled on the bulky crate strapped to his back. Despite needed to pinch his nose to protect it from the stench of stagnant rainwater and rot, he dutifully pressed on. However, as soon as the recipient signed for the package, he promised himself he would bolt out of there as fast as his stubby feet could take him.
Finally nearing the impressive door of the forsaken building, the dwarf set the package on the ground with a dull thud, surprised he hadn't caused the entire structure to collapse with it. Not yet wanting to give up this streak of luck, the Courier boldly knocked on the door, the thought of it coming unhinged and crushing him only registering in his mind for a brief moment before a pale hand pushes the formidable thing open, dust falling from it as it does so.
"Yesss?" whispers a disembodied voice.
The dwarf takes out a clipboard and a pen from his belt satchel, and extends the two to the hand. "...Aye, ye need t' sign fer this lad," he instructs.
A tiny hole in the door opened, and then closed just as quickly. A peep hole, Jarben assumed. He impatiently went to shove the clipboard at the hand again when he realized it had already been taken from him, filled out, and was now being given back to him within the time it had taken him to look up at the aforementioned peep hole. Completely and utterly baffled, and more than a bit uncomfortable, he swiftly snatches the clipboard and pen back from the ghostly white hand. He stuffs them into his waist-satchel, and quickly bows to the unseen figure. In moments, the only traces visible of him are the trampled grass marking his path, and the paths of the vermin slithering and squeaking in pursuit behind him.
Inside the tower, the wizard in training looked at his package with disdain. How would he get it if it was outside? He considered teleporting the crate and all its contents inside, but past experiences involving what was once more than one rabbit quickly dissuaded him from doing that.
This wasn't good.