Joe is a fixture at the Empty Goblet, a presence so constant that many patrons stop noticing him until he is suddenly absent. He grew up scrubbing its floors, hauling water, and cleaning up the messes left behind by men who never learned to leave a place better than they found it. Born in the Ostengate slums to a sailor father he barely remembers and a mother who survived however she could, Joe learned early that stability mattered more than pride.
The tavern gave him rhythm. Work arrived each morning. Tasks followed one another predictably. Floors needed scrubbing. Cups needed washing. Patrons needed watching. Joe was never the quickest to catch a joke or a plan, but he learned by repetition and attention. Over time, he became reliable in ways that mattered. He pours a clean drink. He notices when voices sharpen. He steps in early when tempers rise and steps back just as quickly when discretion is required.
Joe does not talk much about the past, and no one presses him to. Those who know him understand that he carries loyalty the way others carry ambition. He shows up. He finishes what he starts. When the barkeeper steps away, Joe runs the bar without complaint, following instructions exactly and taking quiet pride in being trusted with responsibility.
The world beyond the Empty Goblet still looks down on him, and Joe knows it. He accepts that with the same steady patience he brings to his work. He may not be clever, but he is dependable, and in a place where chaos passes through nightly, that makes him more valuable than most people realize.