DUNGEONS & DRAGONS: Dawn of Revolution
The Waitress, part 1
Five months after the coalition war ended...
"Damn it, Dojer! Table 8 needs their entrees now!" Riddo Cynesberig roared as he kept barking out orders in the busy kitchen. "Aren't you the head chef? Get your foolish cooks moving! I can't lose these customers!"
The chefs winced and started chopping vegetables and meat cuts even faster, all while the head chef, a middle-aged man named Dojer, pointed at all his chefs. "You heard him! The owner needs those plates out pronto! Dunsam, isn't that seafood stir-fry ready yet?!"
Dunsam, a chef with dirty blond hair, added the finishing touches with a flourish and set the plate on the counter. "Table 9's stir-fry is ready! Mozzie, can you get it out?"
"Now, Mozzie! Go, go!" the owner, Riddo, snapped. "Get those feet moving, missy!"
Mozzie, who had been standing near the door with three other waiters, flinched and hurried across the busy kitchen to get table 9's stir-fry plate. She could feel Riddo's intense eyes boring into her as she turned and carried the plate out into Upscale Cuisine's dining area. It was the lunch rush, and once again, Riddo Cynesberig was pushing his staff to the limit to get more paying customers in and out of the place. It had been going on for weeks, and it felt so off. Mozzie even sensed desperation in her boss's voice, but she didn't dare question it.
"U-um... seafood stir-fry with extra greenberry sauce and bay rice on the side," Mozzie announced meekly as she arrived at table 9. Two middle-aged women looked up at her with pleasant surprise.
"Ah, that one is mine, dear," one of them said, raising her hand.
Mozzie set it down in front of the customer. "I'm sorry it was so slow!"
"Slow? No, you're right on time," the customer said warmly, picking up her fork to dig in. "Jaza, the service here is always so prompt, isn't it?"
The other lady, a half-goliath, nodded. "Yes, such quick service." She gave Mozzie a kind look. "Don't worry yourself, my dear. I'll be patient for my veal cutlets."
Mozzie made a courteous bow and hurried back to the kitchen, where there would no doubt be another plate or two waiting for her.
"Gods curse you, Dojer! The customer won't accept it like this!" Riddo roared, poking a spoon into a dish's seasoned mashed potatoes. "I can't have customers leaving because of slop like that!"
"The potatoes are fine," Dojer told his boss with forced patience. "Table 11 is sure to like it. Who can take it out?"
The other waiters and waitresses were busy, so Mozzie stepped forward. "I can get it out," she said, and took it.
"Mozzie! Show me more energy and enthusiasm!" Riddo barked. "It should be a pleasure to serve my customers! Show them how much you care, will you?"
"Y-yes, boss!" Mozzie yelped, feeling her face go warm as she hurried out the kitchen. Halfway to table 11, she nearly collided with another waiter, a young man her age who was carrying a tray of used plates. Mozzie yelped and stumbled forth, but kept her plate balanced. The other waiter threw out a hand to catch himself on a table, almost spilling his tray of plates.
"I'm sorry!" Mozzie cried, which was practically her mantra in this fast-paced environment.
"Nah, was my fault," the waiter admitted, finally regaining his balance. "Damn, the boss would kill me if I broke these! See ya, Mozzie!" He nodded at his tray of plates, then resumed his hurried trek to the kitchen.
Trembling, Mozzie delivered her plate to table 11, where an elderly gnome man eagerly dug into his lunch once it was placed under his nose. Then back to the kitchen it was for another round. Riddo wasn't letting up; he kept pointing and snarling at everyone in sight, and it was worse than Mozzie had ever seen it. Strange, water genasi had a reputation for being cool and going with the flow like water, but Riddo was different, his blue-green face slowly turning red as he kept yelling.
"Order up for table 14!" Dojer said, setting two plates on the counter. "Mozzie, can you get these? Thanks!"
"Yes!" Mozzie seized the plates and burst back into the dining area, weaving her way through the round tables to table 14, which was in the corner near the front doors of Upscale Cuisine. She was almost there when her clumsy feet tripped over themselves, and Mozzie felt a thrill of vertigo as she pitched forward. The plates practically leaped out of her hand, then crashed on the glossy hardwood floor, hot food spilling everywhere.
Mozzie fell flat on her chest with an "oof!", but hitting the hardwood floor was the least of her problems. The order! Mozzie scrambled to her knees to retrieve the plate, and found them broken into three pieces each. Half the customers stared at her in shock or sympathy, while Mozzie felt her heart thudding in her chest, her face warmer than ever. At least she had the waiter from earlier (she kept forgetting his name) coming over to help.
"You all right? Here." The waiter helped Mozzie to her feet, then whipped out a white rag. "Let's clean this up." He looked around. "Sorry, folks. Just an accident. We'll get this squared away."
"Th-thank you," Mozzie mumbled, then got out her own rag to keep cleaning up. She and the waiter froze when a certain water genasi stomped over, fit to explode.
"YOU IMBECILE!" he thundered, hands balled into fists. "Mozzie! What have you done? Foolish child! I'll go out of business if my meals are thrown on the floor! Do you think running a business is a joke? Do you?!"
"It was an accident! Just a clumsy misstep," Mozzie told him, frantically waving her hands, but she was certain it was no good. "I'll pay for the lost food, I promise!"
"Pay me back double for it!" Riddo demanded, pointing at the half-cleaned-up food. "You're just one accident away from termination, Mozzie. The customers may like you, but they'll change their minds if you keep wasting their lunches! Unbelievable! I swear upon the gods, I..."
On and on it went, with Mozzie shrinking up into a defensive stance, terrified tears burning in her eyes. Then, about a minute into it, the waiter intervened.
"SHUT UP!" the waiter hollered. "How long are you gonna keep bullying her? Mozzie said she's sorry! She'll do better next time! Right?" He turned to Mozzie, who shakily nodded.
"Ferrol! How dare you talk back to me?" Riddo demanded, narrowing his eyes. "You trying to get fired, boy?"
"How long is this gonna keep up, boss?" Ferrol shot back. "Pushing us to get more customers in here, blabbering about more cash flow, swiping our tips..." Ferrol gestured toward the kitchen. "We can tell something's up, boss! Why are you running this place like we're on our last coin? You owe someone some gold?"
Riddo gnashed his teeth. "Don't you question me, Ferrol. Get back into the kitchen or -"
"We deserve some answers!" Ferrol retorted. "I can't watch you bully the staff anymore! Least of all the new hires, like Mozzie!"
Riddo pointed right at his waiter. "That does it! You got yourself fired, Ferrol! Give back your apron and never show your face here again!"
Ferrol scowled darkly, then unfastened his white and blue apron, throwing it onto the floor. "You got it, boss. See you never." He stalked off and shoved open the front door, leaving a stunned dining room behind.
"You wanna join him, Mozzie? Or will you get more plates out?" Riddo said between clenched teeth, jabbing his thumb at the kitchen. "Move it!"
"Y-yes, boss!" Mozzie yelped, snapping herself out of it and dashing back to the kitchen, the broken plates and mess forgotten. "A-are any more orders ready?" Mozzie said in a trembling voice, and sure enough, table 2's lunch was ready to go. Mozzie didn't dare stop moving until the lunch rush was over and the dining area cleared out.
Late that evening, after the equally hectic dinner rush was concluded, Mozzie finally found a moment to wipe her brow with a spare rag, and Dojer passed her on his way out, his shift concluded. "Hang in there, new girl," he told her simply, then left the building. Mozzie opened her mouth to respond, but was too late, so she went into the back rooms to help out. The waiters often helped with cleanup during low-traffic hours, and Mozzie was no different. This evening, she helped wash dishes.
"Are you sad to see Ferrol get fired, Mozzie?" one of the dishwashers, a warforged man named Cobalt, asked as he scrubbed a white plate. His voice was a little hollow and metallic, typical of his kind. Mozzie liked its sound.
Mozzie sniffed, willing herself to not cry. Instead, she rolled up her waitress uniform's sleeves and started scrubbing some spoons and ladles, savoring the warm, soapy water. "I didn't get to know Ferrol very well, but I should have. I never even got a chance to thank him for standing up for me."
Cobalt nodded, his neck's wood and metal flesh clicking as he did it. "He seemed fond of you, Mozzie, based on his passing comments. I approve of you, too. I admire your earnest efforts and your comforting personal warmth."
Mozzie managed a weak smile. "Thanks, Cobalt."
They kept washing for about ten minutes before Mozzie spoke up again. "Um..."
Cobalt smoothly turned his head to look at her. Click. "Yes?"
"I kind of want to quit, Cobalt. But it was hard getting a job. I don't know what I should do. I feel... stuck."
Cobalt set a few clean plates on the nearest drying rack and contemplated his co-worker with his glowing yellow-orange eyes. "Are you seeking advice, Mozzie?"
Mozzie made a nervous chuckle. "I suppose I am."
"Well, what prompted you to enter the food industry and become a waitress? What does this job mean to you?"
Mozzie scooted over a stack of dirty bowls and got busy washing one. "I wanted to prove to myself, and to my family, that I can make it on my own. I grew up in an upper-class family. Farraday the trade tycoon is my father."
"Ah. I have heard that name a few times."
"I grew up with everything I could ever need except for independence and freedom. I had a stifling childhood, but now I'm free, with my father's blessing, to build my own life. It's how I'll discover myself."
"Hence your employment at Upscale Cuisine. It suited your needs?"
"I hoped it would," Mozzie admitted, moving on to the next bowl. "I want so badly for this to work!"
"Is 'this' your current employment, or your overall endeavor to independently support yourself? The answer may dictate whether you end your employment here to escape the boss's verbal abuse toward you."
"I..." Mozzie stopped, blinking a few times. The rumors were true that warforged people tended to cut right to the heart of any matter with sharp efficiency. Deep down, Mozzie wanted to get away from this place, this boss, and resume her journey of self-discovery some other way. But what if she couldn't find another way? What if she got fired, and then came crawling back to her family in defeat? Even if they didn't judge her (and they certainly wouldn't), Mozzie would feel the blunt weight of shame on her shoulders all the same!
Mozzie merely got the third bowl and started washing. "I'm not sure, Cobalt. I'll think about it when I get home tonight."
"Of course," Cobalt said politely. He started scrubbing a baking pan with steel wool.
"Hey, Cobalt?"
"Yes, Mozzie?"
Mozzie swallowed. "I believe more than ever that the boss is hiding something. Are there signs that Upscale Cuisine is about to go out of business?" It was silly to ask the dishwasher that, but Mozzie wasn't sure who else to turn to.
"Based on the conversations I hear, and the boss's body language and tone, I am almost certain that the boss is under a great deal of pressure, and money is the solution and/or the problem," Cobalt said. "I find it unlikely that poor business practices, declining food quality, or a loss of repeat customers is hurting Upscale Cuisine's business."
"So, whatever the problem is, it's something unusual?" Mozzie concluded.
"Most likely. Which makes it difficult to infer," Cobalt admitted. "We can only hope that the problem is soon resolved, given the boss's evident reluctance to get us involved. Aside from him pressuring us to maximize profits beyond what we need to keep the business afloat."
"That is true," Mozzie said simply. Putting the squeeze really was Riddo's only way of using his staff to solve whatever the problem was, and he clearly had no faith in them to help any other way. And was Mozzie cursed or merely foolish to get hired at a place where all this was happening? Mozzie had spent her few weeks of independence blundering right into this mess, and if she wasn't careful, Upscale Cuisine's woes would stick a knife right through Mozzie's dreams of self-sufficiency in this vast capital city.
Well, she could at least take Cobalt's advice, and think it over some more in her modest apartment before finally collapsing in her bed. But she had the feeling that the true solution would take more than one night's musings to find. Why did Mozzie get the feeling she was on the cusp of another adventure...?
*o*o*o*o*
Mozzie was seated in her cramped apartment the next afternoon, idly flicking through a book on botany, when there was a knock at the door, right on time. Her sisters would always visit weekly, and this time, it was...
"Minerva!" Mozzie leaped from her seat and threw her arms around her eldest sister once they met up in the doorway. "Please, come in."
Minerva gently shut the door behind her and took a seat on a fabric-padded armchair, one of two in Mozzie's modest living space. Minerva couldn't help a smile as she said the family's favorite joke. "Your furniture is worth more than the building, Mozzie! Goodness!" Then she added a smile. "And it's so you, Mozzie. Honestly, if I were to move out of Father's home, I'd do the same."
It was true; after moving out of Farraday's small mansion, Mozzie had hired a moving crew to deliver all her possessions in here, leaving not much room for, well, anything else! Mozzie's fancy, wood-frame bed and one of her dressers took up most of the bedroom, while the other dresser, the two padded chairs, the bookshelf, and the small round dining table (plus two basic wood chairs) took up the rest. At least Mozzie's ornate jewelry box didn't take up much room, resting cozily atop the bedroom dresser.
Anyone else visiting Mozzie's apartment would conclude that this rich girl doesn't really get what it means to move out on one's own and be independent. Well, Mozzie wanted her comforts of home!
Minerva smiled and folded her hands on her lap. She was so lovely today in her best yellow dress, one with white lace on the neckline and cuffs. She also had on her favorite pearl earrings. "How have you been, Mozzie? Is work treating you well?"
"Well..." Mozzie hesitated, seated right across from Minerva. She had kept the truth of Upscale Cuisine's woes secret from her family for fear of worrying them. And she needed to handle her life on her own! But after yesterday's drama, and Ferrol's firing...
Mozzie couldn't keep up the happy lie after looking into her sister's expectant eyes. She lowered her head and admitted everything from start to finish.
"... I don't think I can quit," Mozzie finished, fists clenched in her lap. "I can't face that failure, Minerva! I'd lose much more than my income if I caved now."
Minerva shook her head. "Part of growing up, Mozzie, is knowing when to cut your losses and readjust. Like a Trassian ship catching a new wind out at sea. One setback does not make you a failure! This job is not your life."
"I know it's not," Mozzie admitted meekly. "Rationally, I know that's true. Yet I can't help but feel terrible about it. After all, I just moved out a few weeks ago, and I have to start small. Setbacks like this are proportionately bigger. In my new independent life, losing my job feels like a disaster!"
"You have not failed, Mozzie. And you don't have to endure your boss's abuse, either," Minerva told her firmly. "I won't have anyone speak to any of my sisters like that! I have half a mind to smack some sense into Mr. Cynesberig myself!"
Mozzie couldn't help a laugh. "I couldn't stop you if you tried, Minerva."
"Yes. Well," Minerva said, tossing her hair. "I respect your right to make your own decisions with your new life, Mozzie. I do. But I also can't bear the thought of you getting hurt."
"I can't be trusted to look after myself, can I?" Mozzie said dejectedly.
Minerva gasped. "Oh! That isn't how I meant it, Mozzie -"
"It's all right!" Mozzie blurted out, motioning with her hands. "I know you're not trying to insult me. This is new and scary for me. Of course I'll face a learning curve."
Minerva was clearly preparing herself to say something bold in response to that, and Mozzie had a good guess about what it was. "I have to make a decision right away," Mozzie declared. "Right? Either I admit defeat and learn to live with it, or I make a stand at work. Either way, this can't continue."
Minerva smiled again. "I was hoping you'd say that, Mozzie. And I get the feeling you've already been thinking it."
"Perhaps deep down, I have," Mozzie said with a polite shrug. "It's easier to think clearly with you or the others here. At work, I can't help but freeze up and panic whenever things go wrong. I just... crumble."
"You're not going to crumble tomorrow, are you?" Minerva prompted her gently.
Mozzie bolted to her feet. "No!" she cried. "I won't! After seeing Ferrol get fired, I felt like a cornered animal. But if I knew what was wrong with the restaurant, I'd have stood up for myself then!"
"And now?"
"Now, I'll just have to ask Mr. Cynesberig myself what the real problem is," Mozzie stated. "Last night, I racked my brains while washing the dishes, but that got me nowhere. I was too afraid to find out. Now, I must find out, whether it gets me fired or not!"
Mozzie stood there, breathing hard and her nerves tingling. Her sisters usually had this effect on her, reigniting that fire of determination and courage in her timid heart. It worked when her sisters decided to flee Sassanoit to join Lorelai's revolution, and it worked when Mozzie moved out of the only home she ever knew to make something of herself. Now it must work for a third time.
After a few silent seconds, Minerva got to her feet and gently took hold of Mozzie's face in her hands. "I'm proud of you, Mozzie," she said fondly. "When we joined the revolution, that was something the five of us decided together as we got swept up in the currents of history. Now? This is more personal. It's you. This takes more courage than facing the Cult of Bones or the royal army."
Mozzie blushed as she made an awkward smile. "My boss is a far cry from a vengeful lich."
"We live in a new era of peace, Mozzie. It's a time to fight our own battles, not Lorelai's," Minerva told her. "You don't need armies and cults involved to make a life-changing decision. I know you, Mozzie, more than anyone else. I know how important this is to you and your mission to discover who you are."
Mozzie's smile widened. "I can't say no to that, now can I?" Moments like these reminded her that Minerva had absolutely succeeded in being the sisters' new mother figure, no matter how much Minerva had secretly doubted herself in that role. With someone like that looking after Mozzie, it was time to act! No less for this sister!
"Tomorrow morning, before the first customers step inside, I'll confront the boss," Mozzie declared. "I'm going to face him with my co-workers, and we're going to get some answers! I'll make you proud!"
"This isn't about me," Minerva reminded her. "But I'm so glad to hear that." She beamed, lowered her hands, and wrapped her little sister in a tight hug. "And remember: no matter what happens, Father and the rest of us will support you. Even if the worst should come to pass."
"For that, I'll always be grateful." Mozzie held Minerva a little tighter. "But until then, perhaps some fresh air at the local park? Let's savor the afternoon sun."
"Of course."