He left the cabbie a hefty tip. It was well-deserved. The poor horse had been given one heck of a workout. Still, he'd made the station on time; the engine gave a whistle just as the carriage door swung shut behind him.
He was safe, for now. The railway was neutral ground; everyone valued communication, and besides, the /Dwarves? had powerful magic.
(...)
2
"Royston!" - the carriage-master called out. "Royston!"
No-one was getting off. The man1 peered out of the window curiously. It was a small station, but one of the ones where the train would stop for a little while; the engine needed more water.