The air flew past him. The air was hot and dense as if from an opened oven filled with an assortment of spiced pastries. Hendrik opened his eyes from his attempt to shield them from the heavy gust of air. Now he could see the familiar dark wood table and bar of this three-story cabin in the forest. The bar's shelves were filled with bottles of mostly edible liquid with the addition of around a fourth of them holding a variety of maps and scrolls. The guild smelled like wood, a mix of food, and the musk of adventurers taking a relaxing break from their perilous adventures.
Many of the adventures had similar clothing to others with brown shirts with darker brown pants, sometimes blue, with various weapons or tools looking like any ordinary traveler in a tavern, while some practically stood out like the sun in a night sky. In this chaotic tavern, there were a few familiar faces that stood out -that would be "friendly faces" if they weren't covered in scares or toughened by their experience in the harsh world they had all come to know. One had white clothes befitting someone who would live in a mansion with dozens of servants, his face was stern like it was always judging everything- Namel. On the other side was a strange child sitting in a squat with his fists on the table like a wild beast who had reptilian wings growing from their back, a tail, and scales running from their hands and feet halfway to their ankles and elbows- the half-dragon, ###name###. In a dark corner were two cloaked women similar in height leaning against adjacent walls, one with a set of small knives, and the other with a bow- the shadows of the guild, Ren and Samantha. Hendrik turned his head to an eight-foot behemoth of a man right in front of him, who, judging by his appearance, could crush stones with his bare hands.
He turned to look at Hendrik and said with a mysterious comforting voice, "Hendrik! Are you alright? You look as if you had gone swimming in a raging river!". Hendrik stood there silent with a blank face. "I see. I know it's tough being the person who gets sent off on those types of missions. So if you ever need a hand, your pal Galdin will be happy to help. I'll get out of your way now so you can get to your room and rest", he said caringly with his deep voice.
Hendrik then turned to the stairs with the quest board on the wall next to it and started to walk up the stairs away from the rowdy atmosphere of the first floor. He arrived at a long hallway with several rooms on one side and windows showing the empty night on the other. At the end of this hallway was a large door that was twice as big as the other dark wood doors. It had trim that had the door and the room beyond feel as if it was . . . alive.
Not sparing the memorizing door a second glance he walked, still straight-faced, into his own room. His room was entirely purpose-based. Where other people would have put pictures and sentimental objects were either empty shelves or tools for making his own clothes or tools he had yet to possess. It smelled of wood dust and iron similar to that of a woodworking or blacksmith shop. There was a desk with a stack of blank paper to write reports and maps with a variety of tools and pens easily accessible near the top of the desk. In the desk drawer were bigger items that would have covered the desk if they were always out, such as rune carving tools with incredibly thin sharp edges, various materials(wood, metals, magic dust, etc.), and an assortment of things that, in total, could probably accomplish any handy working task. His bed (close enough to his desk where all he had to do was turn around to reach), had no pillow, a brown blanket, a thin tan sheet, and where the main fluffy body of the bed should be was nothing more than a slightly thicker blanket.
Hendrik loomed over to his bed. He fell onto his bed, motionless. He was asleep.