Chapter 388: Melfyn, First of the Cinderbrood
Located at the border of the Commoner District, the South-East neighborhoods were adjacent to the bustling Trade District, separated only by a narrow stream. A small bridge spanning across the stream gave the South-East residents easy passage to the countless shops and stalls that had made the Trade District famous throughout the Ebon Realm.
While none of the fancy and large gilded stores were situated anywhere near the South-East, Melfyn still considered his small patch of the Trade District the best in the city. It didn’t matter that none of the posh or aristocratic citizens gave their patronage here, in fact, he preferred it that way. This small neighborhood of stalls and shops was for the common people and he loved them all the more for it.
Even as he walked through the busy morning streets, he couldn’t help but admire the rugged old buildings. Small as they were, the vendors somehow always managed to have exactly what he was looking for and if they didn’t, they always had something just as good.
The bustling of the crowds had only grown louder and livelier in the last few weeks. With the ‘mysterious’ disappearance of the Rat Snake gang and all that followed, people had begun to feel safer in their neighborhood and had begun to venture out more frequently, not just out of necessity, but for enjoyment.
While humans and goblins comprised most of the commoners in the city, the owners of the stalls were mostly drows, and a few humans and dwarves. Goblins never had much to call their own in the city, but Melfyn felt that was slowly changing. Even now, he spotted a few goblins in the crowd, heading towards their jobs or simply going out for a stroll. The few that saw him, in turn, lit up with pride and nodded respectfully as he passed by.
It was strange, goblins he had never met recognized him, and not just goblins, humans, and many of the other resident dwarves and drows did too.
The whole thing felt very odd to Melfyn. The slums had once been his home, no one had ever given him a second glance before. Hunger had been his only constant friend. And now he was running an errand to buy food for not only himself, but his friends. Not once in his short 16 years would he have ever dreamed things would have changed as much as they had.
The scent of fresh bread wafted over him and he looked up at the familiar shop. It was a small bakery, with sun-bleached wooden planks that had seen better days many, many years ago. Despite what the shop looked like, Mr. Meeves still managed to bake the best bread in the neighborhood.
Sandra had once told Melfyn a bakery in the North-West Sub-District served the best bread and pastries. He hadn’t visited that bakery yet, but he doubted anyone’s baking was better than Mr. Meeves’.