Ad aspera

-- I'll find it. I'll go get dressed and start...
Entering his room, which the attendant pointed out to him, and spending only a moment looking out the window to assess the situation (whether it overlooks the courtyard or the street, how high it is from the ground and close to the roof), Dunkaniell put on clay-stained trousers and a shirt, and similar gloves, after which he went to the stables, acting seemingly unhurriedly and calmly, but in fact quickly.

The window overlooked the street. The ceilings are low, so the ground is only about two meters away, and the roof can be easily reached by simply standing on the windowsill.
It's cold in the stables, the wind blows through, and it's very dirty, but at least it's relatively dry. Dunkaniell is greeted at the entrance by an old, mustachioed stableman, although he is actually more middle-aged, but lean, tanned, and very wiry, as if the gods who created him were very stingy with meat, and forgot about fat altogether. This leanness adds another decade to his weathered face. He is dressed very lightly, and his linen shirt is so dirty that it hasn't been washed in weeks, or rather, months. The look is completed by a wooden mug in his hand; judging by the way the stableman drinks from it, it's unlikely to contain water.
-- What? Did this paperworm finally find me an assistant? Good, -- without even letting Dunkaniell answer, the man thrust a shovel into his hands. -- Go clean the stalls in the right wing. I'll go unharness the newly arrived one...
The stableman briskly headed towards the courtyard, finishing his drink on the go and tossing the mug into a corner.
-- Hey, you, -- the old man calls him that, apparently considering names a useless formality, since there are only two of them anyway. -- Run and get water from the well, you need forty buckets...
-- Hey, you -- bring more hay!... Hey, you -- go grind the oats!... Hey, you -- clean and saddle that chestnut... -- and so on, all day long without a break.
He runs up from somewhere, gives orders, drinks from his mug, which is always lying around somewhere, but somehow the old man always has it at hand, and runs away again, a second later already rushing past Dunkaniell with a cart loaded to the brim with hay. In the stable, there are not only several dozen of their own, but also other people's horses on consignment, and merchants and travelers wander around, shouting at the same time -- why are my mules not fed, where did you put my horse, harness the cart so that it's ready in a minute... Even Dunkaniell's elven body gives out, and by the end of the day he feels as tired as the most miserable human.
How the old man manages it alone is a mystery to the potter.
-- Well! Still alive. Not everyone can handle the work, especially on the first day. -- the working day is over, and the old stableman finally stops his frantic movements. He doesn't even seem tired. -- Want some?
He handed Dunkaniell the mug.

Dunkaniell receives the "Fatigue" effect -- -20% to accuracy, evasion, perception checks, and dexterity.

- Hmm... The Almighty has marked out a path for each of us. If everyone were warriors, who would grow bread and raise livestock? Who would forge weapons and armor? Who would teach people the Word of God? You have done everything that was required of you. God does not want to take you, otherwise you would have died in the first attack. For now, I will behave quietly. It is not worth attracting the attention of the guards prematurely. Perhaps I will be able to find our brothers who are capable of fighting evil. As they say, trust in the Almighty, but don't be lazy. But if I don't find them, I will act alone - that is the will of the Almighty. However, I will have a small request.

-- That's a good point. We need to approach this with caution. My hands are tied, but you are new to the city, and you can act more freely, and there is no need to rush. What is your request?