The Adventurer’s Guild was nearly silent this morning. Even with a room full of rowdy adventurers, they knew when to keep their mouth shut. One of those times was when Tom held out a piece of parchment, with Vice Master Paul standing right behind him.

An announcement.

However, Adam was looking out to Paul, only just realising he hadn’t seen the Vice Master in some time. ‘Huh. Where have you been, Paul?’ It was still unnerving to see Paul so full of joy and life, in comparison to his previous life where he was far more solemn and grey. Even so, Adam couldn’t help but smile at Paul’s current demeanour.

“I’m sure you’ve all been waiting for this announcement,” Tom said, staring at the parchment in his hands. “It’s official. The undead have begun to rise.”

The adventurers roared with joy, pumping their fists out into the air. They hollered and howled like baboons. Jurot had remained standing with his arms crossed, silent like death. Adam glanced at him, wondering why he wasn’t as excited as the other adventurers. Then, like it had been rehearsed, the adventurers grew silent, leaving a moment of pause to allow Tom to continue.

“The excursions have begun. We already have a few parties in mind to send out to deal with the protection of the various settlements nearby, and some which will assist the nearby fort. Then there’s the matter of the undead hot spots, which we’ll assign groups of parties to. Those who haven’t been picked may take any undead request as they come in, though you should be quick since they’ll sell out like hot cakes.”

‘Hot cakes! I should have bought some of those!’ Adam shook his head slightly, thinking about all the various breads and pastries he should be trying in this world. The bread had been alright, some of it had been some of the best bread he had ever had, but the desserts were what he was aiming for. ‘I should create a food review service…’

“We will have a list up on the wall of the parties we have chosen from all those who had put their names down. I hope that you will behave accordingly. The prices for various things might go up, but you’ll also be making a lot more money in this time. If you cause trouble, the Adventurer’s Guild will be having a word with you.” Tom’s lips made a smile, but his eyes were as neutral as always. The unnerving smile caused the adventurers to think twice about how much they’d be drinking for the next few weeks.

Without saying goodbye, Tom turned and stepped aside, having much better things to do than to babysit all the adventurers.

Jurot followed after him, with Adam stepping up after the Iyrman. “We wish to take the route along the villages towards the Iyr,” he said.

Tom nodded towards Jurot. He had been informed by the Iyrmen previously about the matter, so he had prepared all the right paperwork. Showing favouritism wasn’t best for the guild, but when it came to the Iyrmen in this town, there was no need to think twice about assisting them.

Tom, of all people, understood how easy his life was because his neighbours were an army of thousands of highly skilled warrior people. The amount of work which had been saved due to the Iyrmen could be piled high in this entire room. So what if they wanted him to spend an hour or two this week to assist? He wasn’t stupid enough to deny an Iyrman’s wishes.

“The pay will be sent by the villagers, and it will be up to them how much you will receive. That was the condition set in order to allow you to head to the Iyr.” Tom looked up at Jurot, waiting for his approval.

Yet, instead of nodding his head, Jurot turned to Adam. “What do you think?”

‘?’ Tom blinked, turning his head to Adam.

“Sounds good to me,” Adam said, shrugging his shoulders. “As long as they don’t scam us. We should keep my skin condition a secret from them, though. If they find out I’m, you know…” Adam twitches his ears, only to realise they were hidden behind his helmet, and so pointed to where they would be instead. “They might not pay us much.”

Jurot nodded, turning back to face Tom, staring him in his confused eyes. “It is acceptable.”

“I have confirmed that you are willing to accept the quest,” Tom said. “Once the letters arrive at the end of the month, I will have the rewards prepared.”

“Oh, before I leave.” Adam glanced around to see if any adventurers were paying attention. He leaned in over the counter. “Is there an adventuring party known as Dark Harvest?”

Tom nodded his head. “There is.”

“Would you mind describing them to me?” Adam cleared his throat. “Just in case I have the wrong party.”

‘Suspicious!’

‘Suspicious!’ Tom nodded his head slowly. “They’re made up of a halfzer, a devilkin, a half orc, a feynt, and a gnome.”

Adam nodded the entire time until he heard about the gnome. ‘A gnome?’ Though it did sound like the party he knew. “Well, would you mind passing on a message to them for me in case they ever swing by?”

“I can,” Tom said, bringing out a letter.

“Please tell them that if they are ever heading up north into the Snowlands, that I would be willing to go with them as a porter. Tell them that I, you know, have certain abilities.” Adam winked, only to realise he was still wearing his helmet. “I winked, but I’m sure you know what I’m talking about.”

Tom nodded in return. “Is there anything else you’d like me to add?”

Adam thought for a long moment. He needed to get their attention somehow, but he wasn’t exactly sure how. “Ah, right. Tell them that I would love to meet them before they go. Even if they don’t want me, I highly recommend that they should meet me.” Adam glanced to Jurot. “Want to come along? There’s something that I want to show you. After that, I’ll tell you it, my secret.”

Jurot’s ears perked up. “I’ll go.”

“Then please let them know that an Iyrman is willing to quest with them too.” Adam smiled wide. Having an Iyrman at his side was more useful than he expected. Adam shuddered, feeling how dirty it was to use Jurot to his benefit, but he needed to head north in order to find Freya.

[You still feel bound by your previous life?]

‘Something like that.’

[Do you really wish to be burdened by your second life?]

‘Only the manliest men are those who are forged through burdens.’

[Do you really think that sounded cool.]

‘Yes.’

Tom stared at Adam for a long moment, before writing down a few more notes onto the letter and Adam’s personal file. He was a little too suspicious, and so the guild needed to take that into consideration. If Adam ended up being someone with ill intentions, they may have to send some of the Black Masks.

“Since we’re going to face some undead, shouldn’t we grab some blunt weapons?” Adam asked.

Jurot agreed, nodding his head as he followed Adam out. Adam stepped towards the nearby forge, hearing the welcoming sounds of a magical hammer striking against metal to bend it to its will.

Adam reached up to knock on the door, only to find Jurot’s hand on his shoulder. “Hmm?”

“We should not bother the dwarf,” Jurot said.

‘How interesting. I didn’t realise that Jurot would hold him in such high respects.’ Adam smiled. “Don’t worry, he won’t think I’m a bother.”

Jurot kept a hand on Adam’s shoulder, squeezing it gently, before pulling it back. He had warned Adam, and so whatever would happen from here on out would be his fault.

Adam knocked on the door. “Salt mother’s blessings upon you, great master of the forge.”

Jurot blinked. He tilted his head. He slapped the side of his head, wondering if his ears had stopped working.

The sound of hammering had stopped, and Thundersmith cleaned himself up quickly, before stomping over to the door to open it up. He needed to great the good fellow who spoke the good word of the salt mother and the earth fa-

“Good morning,” Adam said.

Thundersmith’s face was full of abject terror, and he tried to shut the door, only to find the half elf’s boot blocking the way. ‘It’s real! I thought it was all a dream! A terrible nightmare!’

“I’m here to buy a warhammer. I thought, who in this town has the best warhammers for sale? I recalled that there was a good dwarf here, and so it naturally led me to the greatest forge within the town” Adam smiled through his helmet.

Even though Thundersmith couldn’t see the half elf’s face, he could feel the smile of an elf right ahead of him. “Hurry in now! Otherwise they’ll think I’m a na good dwarf, sellin’ ta a leaf ear!”

Adam quickly stepped inside, not wishing the reputation of the good dwarf to be sullied. Had it been someone else, he would have caused an issue, but he wasn’t in the business of disrespecting a dwarf. One day he’d push through the tough exterior of the dwarf, and he’d nestle himself in the gooey interior.

Jurot followed in too, rubbing his ear. “Hello, master dwarf.”

“Ah, an Iyrman. Finally, some good company.” Thundersmith invited the Iyrman inside more respectfully. “He with ya?”

“Yes,” Jurot replied.

Thundersmith sighed. “There’s only one thing ah don’t like about ya Iyrmen, that ya sometimes cater ta elves, but no one’s perfect.”

“Is it not the way,” Jurot said, “to judge someone based on their race.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Thundersmith grumbled.

Adam was already scanning the area, trying to find a decent warhammer that he could use.

Spell
Guidance
1D3 = 1 (1)
Perception Check
D20 + 2 + 1 = 14 (11)

It wasn’t hard to find warhammers, they were favourite weapons of dwarves everywhere, though it was a hard selection.

“Which is your cheapest warhammer?” Adam asked. “I don’t dare claim I can afford most of the items you make.”

“Ah don’t sell cheap warhammers.”

“A good thing I wasn’t asking for a cheap warhammer, otherwise I would have made it. Which warhammer is your most affordable for a Copper Rank adventurer who is still wet behind his pointy leaf ears?”

“Ah don’t sell ta Copper Rank adventurers.”

“Then perhaps to a man with a good heart, master Thundersmith. If this was about my life, I would have gotten a decent warhammer from anywhere, but I’m currently on a quest to defend a few villages from undead. We’re no longer talking about my no good life, but the life of civilians. Master Thundersmith, please, if you would be so kind.”

Thundersmith’s lips twitched, his brows furrowed. ‘This no good half elf.’ He marched his way to a warhammer which he had tossed aside, something he hadn’t quite finished yet. “Ah’m not selling this ta ya, cause it’s not a warhammer ta be sold under me name. Yeh’r going ta leave sixty gold on tha table, and yer going ta take it with ya.”

“Right,” Adam said.

Currency
75GP -> 15GP

Adam counted out each coin, in case the dwarf would threaten him for paying incorrectly. Thundersmith had half expected Adam to leave. ‘How in the rock did he manage to earn so much coin? It’s only been a week!’ He spent most of his time smithing, and so didn’t really hear much about outside his forge, other than maybe once a month.

Yet, Adam placed down the coin. Thundersmith could no longer run away. He placed the warhammer down on the table, and Adam lifted it up.

It was a well made warhammer, one which could easily be seen as dwarven made. There was no obvious flaw within the warhammer, but he was sure that there was something, somewhere, which Thundersmtih didn’t like. Perhaps it was the shape of one of the knobs, or maybe it was because it was a fraction of a millimetre too thin somewhere, and so the dwarf had thrown it away. To a human or a half elf, like Adam, this was a great weapon.

Adam felt he weight of the warhammer, swinging it twice, feeling the way it dislodged the air around him. “It was my pleasure doing business with you, master dwarf.”

“Aye, it was.”

 

---

Click banner for Patreon and come join my Discord too!

---

Oh Thundersmith, how adorable your racism is. 

Wait a second.

Warhammer?

Is the author making a statement about how for some reason racists are attracted to a niche hobby which is currently milking them dry for so much money, all the while they worship a god emperor who failed in his goals in life?

No.

No I'm not.

He just bought a warhammer, that's all.