Chapter 168: Formerly, A Simple Blacksmith
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Meanwhile...

Henna

Stone Arsenal, Market District, Meteo Town

It has been a few days since Silver returned, and with him, a semblance of normalcy I had almost forgotten existed before we met. Although, maybe looking back on it, I wonder if I can really call it a proper sort of normal. Least, I don't think it's really all that common for a girl to be hounded by an Unclean's cupbearer for half her life for reasons I still don't understand even with the bastard dead and burned.

Now that my life isn't under threat and Da's shop too, thanks to His Resplendence, Count Hiolh, may his steps be blessed by Starlight, taking over rule of my hometown, I can focus on improving my smithing.

Come to think of it, no word on what happened to that liquor-soaked old mayor, but I hold no fondness for the gaunt shrike and his endless excuses 'bout why he can't do nothing about the thugs darkening my doorstep all these years. Always figured he were in Geronil's pocket - was a mite surprised to find him still in office after that whole bard's epic.

"Thoughts are wandering," I mumble, pausing in the middle of my work to inspect the progress for mistakes that crept in while I were distracted. Mm, looks like I hammered a rivet in a smidge off target. Not enough to matter structurally or the like, but still, an imperfection I shouldn't have let happen.

"What's got you frowning so deeply?" Jade Fairy, who's been a lot quieter than usual, looks up from a stack of old notes I scrounged up for her to study since I ain't in any mood to teach. I don't like that look of curiosity. Makes it seem like she's just mouthing empty sentiment.

"Mind yer own business," I roll my eyes, taking another rivet from the small pile on the anvil and using the tip to barely puncture the surface of the terrorsteel plate, a guide for after. Pretty sure I'm s'posed to use a dedicated chisel or something for this, but I don't have anything like that, and I ain't about to badger Silver for more than he's already lavishing on me, coin-wise, just to get the shop back in working order.

"'k."

Conceding, Jade lowers her pretty little head to return to staring at the faded ink, only to tilt it, the curiosity unable to be properly contained, "Hey, do you...feel any different today? Not to be rude, separate from whatever it that's, like, bothering you. Like...not really sure how to really frame it.  Like you woke up from a long dream, maybe? Dunno how exactly it's supposed to really work when an AI gets upgraded. If that's what's happening in the first place? Don't think Silver knows any better to be fair to 'em."

"I didn't understand a blessed word of any o' that," I grunt, turning the plate over to flatten the end of the misaligned rivet, "But if you're feeling so chatty, maybe you wanna tell me what all those folks from whatever Reflection your lot came from are doing sitting cross-legged at the Cathedral and yelling weird names this morning?"

The girl clicks her tongue, disappointed I didn't answer her weird questions, "Think those were fresh migrants from Eternal Wuxia. They're...fucking weirdoes. Y'know, in case it wasn't fucking obvious. Ehh...to summarise they're used to a different sort of world than this place where you can just cram drugs and stuff with overblown names like '50 Billion Kadrillion Year Old Grand Dragon Demon of Heaven of the 112th Movement of Ice and Luck Herb' then sit on your ass for a week and wake up with enough power to flatten mountains with a toe."

"They're so powerful?" I ask shocked and intrigued by them, wondering if I should go ask for some advice.

"Not...really?" Jade rocks back and forth on her stool, "In the world of Eternal Wuxia, sure, but here they're just weaksauce losers who haven't had a challenge they couldn't kill with a magical fart in years."

"Oh," I feel my interest wane significantly, "I still find it interesting they reached such staggering heights."

"I guess," she shrugs nonchalantly, "Like I said, don't expect much from 'em. It's the ranked players from Valiant Advance you need to pay attention to. Same game me, Win and Grand played."

"Alright, I'll be sure to remember that," I nod seriously, wondering what sort of world Silver lives on to treat combat of such magnitude as a past-time. From what I've borne witness to so far, their people is an extremely bloodthirsty sort, and greedy to boot. Perhaps, when death is as cheap as it is to them, denied a meaningful legacy, they seek thrills recklessly instead.

How enviable to be so free.

"If you want, but I super doubt that anyone's just gonna come up and announce where they are on the leaderboards or anything," Jade crosses her leg, "Looks like you've got company, though."

Looking behind me, I note an awkward-looking individual dressed in the drab uniform all of these outsiders are clad in upon arrival. A young man, Firm, with an unusual hairstyle. I do not know them, and I do not especially care to know them, as it is unlikely they possess any coin.

"Hi, uh, do you know where I can find places to train?" he asks, smiling politely.

"...."

"Err?"

"...You have to be more specific, dingus," Jade chimes in, rudely.

"Oh, you know, like combat," the man clarifies.

"Did you not see the obvious Adventurer's Guild analogue on the way down the hill, or what?" Jade frowns, "Go check in with the Pioneers' Alliance if you wanna be independent, else head over to Truthseekers' Headquarters in the Western Residential District tomorrow, we're gonna be opening up a place to pick up Quests, first come first served without a need to register yourself. Not yet at least."

He clears his throat, "Well, I was thinking of just grinding mobs, I don't really care about questing or lore."

"Then go straight south out of the gate into Ujax Forest and hope you don't get eaten, I guess," Jade sighs, cracks appearing in her generous demanour.

"With my 9 Extreme Fists of Mt Kualai, I don't have anything to fear!" he declares proudly, cups a fist in his palm and bows strangely, "My thanks for the directions, Elder Sister."

"Uh huh," Jade forces a smile, and we both watch as he walks purposefully away down the increasingly busy street,"Hey, wanna bet how long it'll take for him to get ripped apart by a pack of Dire Wolves, Henna?"

"I do not gamble," I shake my head, feeling a little strange from his attitude, "So, that would be someone from this...Eternal Woosh country in your world?"

Jade snickers, "Nah, that's not how it works. But yeah, that was probably one of the saner ones just now, though. If he knows how to ask for help, he'll learn to adapt pretty quick. It's the ones trying desperately to 'cultivate' in a fuckin' western-style swords-and-sorcery RPG that're the hopeless cases."

"If they were so powerful already, what could motivate them to give it up?" I wonder aloud, hammering the next rivet into place, properly aligned this time despite the easy conversation.

"Boredom, I expect," Jade replies serenely, fanning herself with a piece of tatty parchment stained with spots of darkened yellow where drops of rain probably splattered and settled while it was in the attic, "There was also something of an event that happened this morning on our side that reminded people that Merrow existed, so they're probably the first of more to come, to hear Silver talk."

"I see," I frown, an uneasy feeling rising from my gut, "That's...worrying. But it would certainly go a little ways to explaining why I have been asked to produce so much of the same equipment in such a short time. He was...not entirely talkative 'bout the details."

"Fuck, he does that to you too?" Jade groans, eyeing me with sympathy, "I don't know why I'm surprised, god. Yeah, it's for the incoming wave of fresh meat to buy up. Wish I could chip in, but since we've had our magical orb of craft whatever we have the materials for and I don't have the Designs, you're basically on your own until the big man shows up. Good news is I'm almost done memorising all the theory you've taught me, so I can pick up a ham-"

"Not yet," I deny her, "Silver requested that I be thorough, so I will be testing you properly once you think you're ready."

Mildly irritated, Jade sighs in acceptance, "Fine, fair enough. I'll ace it though."

"I will accept no less for the basics," I hammer the last rivet home, "If you can't even do that much you will flounder and fail. Especially if you mean to rush through them with no respect for their import, you've barely a week's worth o' learnin' on it, all told."

"Don't worry, I'm awesome," she grins, brimming with unimpeachable self-confidence.

How enviable.


 

"Howdy, Henna," the shieldbearing girl, Windy Fields announces after entering the shop amidst the falling rains outside, carrying a twine-strung bundle of papers close to her dinged-up chestplate, "Got a buncha documents pre-signed by the boss for you. Bills, invoices, permits and his bit from the application to turn this place into...what was the name?"

"'Meteor Manufactory'," Jade provides helpfully, sitting on the edge of the countertop, "He really just adores puns it seems like...um, Hey, Win."

"'sup babe," she winks at her, "Yeah, I definitely noticed."

The swordswoman shivers, "Wuf, bleak out there."

"The wet season is drawing to a close soon," I advise her, aware of their ignorance, "'least it won't be in danger of snowing no more, but the chill never leaves."

"Sounds dreary," Windy mumbles, closing the door behind her as I note the raindrops turning a little more solid, bounding off the stone street. Sleet, looks like.

The two friends exchange some more pleasantries while I flip through the delivered bundle, a little damp around the edges but not so bad the ink is running. The clerks mightn't like it, but they can only mutter idly instead of reject it for not being readable or what have you. At least I hope so, because when I made a mistake during the...inheritance proceedings way back they charged me five whole Stone Silver extra. Like they weren't skimming a full mud-drenched 30% off the top in tax for both my da's banked savings and the shop as it were before I even got my name vindicated as the rightful owner.

Not exactly feeling eager, but best to get this done and handed over before nightfall. Grey as it looked like out, it's still light out yet for another hour at least by my reckoning. 'sides, it ain't like some dainty Ghoathan handmaiden, I can stand to get my boots wet if need be, just a shame to dip into the forge fuel supplies to dry off after.

Finishing up, barely paying any attention to what's written already since it's by Silver's discretion that it got sent over in the first place, which is good enough for me, I push up to my feet and scatter a pinch of dust across the still-wet ink. Best be heading out now 'fore I get cold feet without even setting a foot down in a too-deep puddle.

"Hm? What's up, Henna?" Windy questions, dropping her conversation for a moment.

"Could I trouble you both to watch the shop while I go get these delivered to the clerks expectin' 'em?" I ask plain, giving a hearty blow on the parchments afore I bundle 'em back up again.

"Err, in this weather? You sure?"

"Ain't much to a local," I shrug, "And I could use the walk. Feels like I've got bugs crawling under my skin cooped up here."

"D'you have like, an umbrella or something?" Jade questions, bringing up the name of some sort of tool, I suppose, which I don't recognise. Is it like some kinda weapon? 'cos if so, I keep a couple knives on me in any case. Didn't used to, even though I ought to have, but I don't feel right walking around without a blade these days.

"...No," I deny, unsure, "Not unless it's something different in Merrowan."

"We're speaking English though?" Windy tilts her head, then recalls something, "Oh, wait, right, auto-translator. Easy to forget sometimes."

"You drunk or something?" Jade needles her goodnaturedly.

Windy raises a middle finger at her, "Fuck off, I've got a lot on my mind, ok?"

"So, depression drinking, got it," Jade snickers, then abruptly stops, clicking her tongue derisively, "Ugh, I feel like a hypocrite joking about that. Can I get a redo on that?"

"No take-backs," Windy snorts, "Haven't had anything to drink in weeks. Not the same without you and the others."

"...Yeah."

Standing patiently by the door, they regain enough prescience to recognise that I'm waiting to be acknowledged. Not like I was about to speak up during that, was I?

"Sorry, Henna, we'll be here when you get back. Good a time as any for us to catch up," Windy smiles apologetically, leaning back against the counter and waving her hand, "Try not to be gone long though, half-expecting it to snow again."

"Aye, it's overdue for that," I agree, considering recent days, "Been both drier 'n' wetter'n usual, weirdly enough. Not as much rain as normal, except with more rain than snow."

"Is there global warming here or something?" Jade wonders, bringing up yet more strange terminology I've come to understand is the norm for her.

"Who knows? Magic rules here, the fuck is a climatologist gonna make of a planet like this?" Windy chuckles, "Forget the butterfly effect, there's probably people who can just drum up typhoons on a dime out there. Hell if I know what that'll do to the environment if it's done on the regular."

Leaving them to their discussion, I quietly exit onto the street, specks of frozen water bouncing off my shoulders and melting into my hair.


 

Morlin Street, Market District, Meteo Town

What with all the work going on about the markets and houses, some of the more convenient roads are clogged with carts, crates and scaffolding for repairwork. Before it'd be a pretty straight shot from my doorstep over to Tridor Plaza, except with all that going on I have to take a couple detours as I go. Most buildings still have standing walls, but more'n a couple have had the roof collapse in after support beams got burnt to cinders.

As I go, I find more than a few folks huddled up to singed old stoves that survived the arson, while bits of debris and old fabrics are draped overhead to keep the worst of the wet out. Walking out here, I'm shivering just the same, and counting my blessings that I had the strength to keep my own home safe. That's about it though, I'm short on sympathy for this lot. A bit of poverty and hardship'll give 'em all a taste of what they fed me, petty and cruel the feelings may ring in my heart.

Because most of them, they knew. They knew about Geronil, and they did nothing. Not to stop him, and not to help me or my Da when we needed it. Worthy Citizens of the Empire, they are. Took a damn stranger with no real stake or responsibility to change anything 'round here, and they just about strung Silver up for his trouble, what I heard.

It ain't right. Ain't right at all.

"...if you need anything else, please don't hesitate to seek us out," I turn into a new side-street, avoiding a collection of barrels and blankets arranged into a pitiful young lad's tent blocking the alleyway next to an utterly decimated street. A couple folks in cloaks, carrying magic lamps emitting a soft blue light, the washed-out and faded symbol of a star with a pair of clasped hands within dyed onto their backs are saying their goodbyes to a lass and her littler kin, a big pot of something hot on a trolley behind them that hisses and spits whenever a bit of ice or the slowly reappearing raindrops land on it, clearly hot.

Smells like a broth of some kind. They ain't local, accent sounds Ghoathan, but proper, not that half-baked mix Silver has going. From context, I reckon they must be...ugh, Gancteurs. Carrionfeeding samaritans. The Unstained are supposed to be handling this work, shouldn't be any place for their like.

Wheresoever tragedy befalls, you'll not need to wait long before Pioneers and Gancteurs show their mugs. Soldiers and Pioneers at least will try to deal with the problem, but these kind folks are content to let it play out and deal with the aftermath. Ain't like they're useless, but they aren't what I'd call good people, rumour has it. Roaming the land in search of the suffering that they might assist...and complete a Quest or two while they're at it.

Wouldn't be so bad if they owned up to it, but from the most sincere to the least, they never admit they stand to benefit. Just comes off as self-satisfaction more than charity. Still, rumour's just bored travellers swapping tales. Got no grudge with them myself, not like the folks they're giving alms to.

They notice me approaching, not that I've business with them instead of the cobblestones past them, the tall one smiles from under his hood, friendly and a few chilblains on their nose.

"Ah, excuse me, are you in need of assistance from the Bright Caravan?" he asks, friendly as you please, "If you're in need of sating your hungers, we have a veritable feast in Lumberman's Broth right here, and bowls, spoons, if you lack the necessary cutlery or crockery. Or perhaps a cloak? You're positively soaked through. No charge of course, it's our creed that none shall want for the sake of warmth."

Hearing him speak, the man seems to be one of the genuine almsgivers out of the bunch. Not a wick of double-meaning to his talk, nor his way of speaking. It ain't much comfort for the homeless and penniless, just handing out soup like this, but maybe it'll keep one or two from freezing in the night. Depending on how many there are, there'd be more productive work they could be doing, but even a cheap meal is better than nothing for some. Won't be a match for Lifk's fare, now he's back in business at The Golem all the same.

"Save it for someone what needs it," I reject the offer calmly, "I don't need help from a stranger, not anymore."

"Are you certain?" the man's partner questions, plainly concerned, "You're quite pale, you know?"

"Just need to get indoors and warm myself by a fire for a bit, the cold don't bother me much," I continue to reject them, "Heat neither, else I'd be a poor smitty."

"You're a blacksmith in this area?"

Smiling confidently, I shake my head, a bit of spray hitting the closer man's cheek, "Nah, more than that these days. More still in days yet to come, I reckon."

Something seems different, can't quite put my finger on what.

Any ideas?

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