Though time is relative to the observer in a given dimension, between them there can be a great deal of variance in rate of speed that the passage of time flows. In Delein, months not days had passed since she’d last noticed her pest problem. To be honest the Tiefling Jyslin had all but forgotten the little intruder, assuming it had returned to its usual haunts out in the wilderness.
Life at the Double Barrel continued on largely as normal in the intervening time, the inn seeing perhaps a third fewer travellers than is customary for this time of the year. But then the winter had been harsh with bitterly cold temperatures and deep snow. As a result, spring was turning out to be soggy, muddy and just generally unpleasant for travel.
This development suited Jyslin at this point in time. She had more pressing issues to wrangle. There was a problem with the latest order of water for the wine.
Specifically, it wasn’t here yet.
And it should have been, twice over.
The four wagon train with experienced drivers and mounted escort had failed to arrive two days ago when they were expected. Jyslin was, understandably, more than a little concerned. First off, the purity and quality of the water was of prime importance in wine making and for her family’s vintage, the regular shipments from the high mountain spring they owned were crucial. To make matters worse, each person on that tardy shipment was family of some stripe.
Worry weighted her down.
“Tomorrow,” She muttered to herself grimly, “if they don’t show by morning, there’ll be nothing else for it.”
She stared out into the yard at the iron bound double gate which lead to the road. Stared with such intensity that, could sheer willpower cause the gate to open and the wayward wagons to roll in with a simple excuse for their tardiness.
She ground her teeth in frustration, hating the sinking sense of certainty in the pit of her stomach that gave the lie to her hopes.
“I’ll have to go get them …”
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