《Lone: The Wanderer [Rewrite]》B1: Chapter 42: Phil and Blacksmiths
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After cooking breakfast with Soph, Lone took their porcelain bathtub out from his Dimensional Storage and created hot water for them to bathe with.
A good 15 minute soak and some heavy towel usage later, and the two were now fully dried and dressed.
"So... The Adventurer's Guild?" Soph asked as they were walking down the inn's flight of stairs.
Lone shook his head. "Not yet.”
“Why not now? We don’t really have much else to do here,” Soph questioned.
“Well for a start, I want to talk to the reception girl's dad if he's about. He’d be the first demi we’ve come across since leaving Goblin Island. Well, unless Snapper was a demi too.”
Soph frowned. “That frog woman was weird.”
Lone chuckled. “Indeed. Also, if the receptionist’s dad isn’t around, I wanna search the city for a smithy of some sort and a library too. Maybe that girl knows if there are any and where?”
Soph held her chin thoughtfully. “Maybe. I wouldn’t know. I get the smithy. To learn more about metals and stuff, right? Why a library though? Just to read more?”
Lone nodded. “Yeah. I am a historian of sorts, after all. I also want to get answers to a lot of my system-related questions; like how increasing my personal rank really works. Stat points are nice and all, but I have other stuff more important to do if just killing shit won't help me rank up at all."
"Like?" Soph cocked her head curiously.
"Like working on my Acting and Persuasion skills. I suspect they will be incredibly useful for another goal of mine," he answered.
"Another goal?" Soph was full of questions today.
"Connections. Money talks loudly, but connections can be just as vocal. Money, connections, power. These three things. They rule all sapient life. Some are more weighted than others depending on the society. In this kind of kingdom in this kind of world? My guess is that the order goes power, connections, then lastly, money. At least, that's the list of importance for me," Lone explained.
"Money isn't important?" Soph didn’t seem to understand his logic.
Lone shook his head once more. "I have my Creation Magic. This is kinda linked with connections since I want to find a good, diverse blacksmith to teach me about weapon and armour forging. As a result, I'll learn more about metals like bronze, silver and gold, no doubt. With that, I could make coins very easily I’d bet. Three birds, one stone."
"One... Connection to a good smith... Two... Knowledge about the metals that make money... Three... knowledge on weapon and armour forging... Huh. If they're the birds, what's the stone?" Soph inquired.
Lone laughed softly. "The stone is the fact that I get all three of those in one. Maybe the smith?"
As Soph was wrapping her head around that, the two had finished their descent and found themselves to be in the inn's reception.
Behind the desk was a disinterested-looking young man who was maybe a year or two younger than Lone himself.
He spied the two of them and raised an eyebrow. "So Grella wasn't lying. A nine-traited beastkin, and a Golden Foxkin on top of that. What's someone like you doing in a place like Milindo?"
'The girl from last night's brother? She did mention having one,' Lone thought as he wore a smile. "We're just wanderers exploring the world. Milindo happens to be a part of the world, so here we are."
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"Huh. Is that so? What kind of places have you been to on your travels?" There was still a clear lack of genuine curiosity in the man's voice, but he was being polite, so Lone saw no justifiable reason to blow him off.
"We only recently started our travelling, so Milindo is the first stop on our journey. We originally lived on an island due west of Teresta. A small place with no official name," Lone claimed.
The man raised his eyebrow again before lowering it and nodding. "Okay. Well, should I tell Ma to make yous some grub? It's still a bit early, but I'm sure she wouldn't mind. It's her job, after all."
"Ah, no, thank you. We plan to eat out today. What time is dinner? We'll be sure to return for that. I want to meet your father if the opportunity should present itself," Lone explained.
The man shrugged. "Anytime between dusk and midnight is fine. Pa comes home at around that time anyway, so I'll be sure to tell him you wanted to talk."
Lone smiled and pulled a few copper coins out from his pocket before he placed them on the desk. "Thanks. You wouldn't happen to know where I could find a library? A bookstore is fine if Ranton doesn't have a library. I also want to find a good blacksmith. Obviously, one who's not a racist."
"You don't need to bribe me for bog-standard info like that, y'know?" Grella's brother said.
Lone shook his head. "It's not a bribe. It's a tip."
"A tip, huh?" He pocketed the coins and reached under the reception desk before he pulled out a sheet of paper.
Congratulations! The host's passive skill [Persuasion] has levelled up! It is now Beginner Level 8.
'Oh, cool. I wasn't even trying to be persuasive. Maybe he'd have refused me if I was ruder?' Lone wondered as he glanced at the parchment and saw a rough-looking bird's eye view of what seemed to be the city.
It wasn’t an overly impressive map but it was easy to read. Perhaps it was his 5% bonus from Cartography helping him out, but he intrinsically knew where he was in relation to the map right now.
Simple as it was, it showed the uniqueness of the districts and even some building’s pretty damned well, he felt.
The man reached under the desk once more and took out a quill and an inkwell. With graceful movements, he circled five buildings on the map.
"This one is the city library. You need a pass to get in which can be pricey, more so for demis. These two are bookstores, although this one is a bit discriminatory against demis from what Pa tells me. This is the most acclaimed armoursmith in town, and this is a demi-run smithy. Guy who owns the place is your jack of all master of none type when it comes to forging. Armour, weapons, tools, nails, you name it, he can make it but not as well as a true pro. Take your pick," he detailed as he handed the paper to Lone after he was done pointing at each circled building.
"Thank you. I really appreciate this," Lone said sincerely. ‘That armoursmith seems like a good shout. As much as demi who can make almost anything sounds appealing, I can’t help but notice that their shop is in the slums… Kinda wanna avoid that if possible.’
"It's fine. That map and the ink ain't worth six coppers, so I should be the one thanking you," the man replied with a dismissive wave of the hand.
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"Well, we'll be off then. See you this evening?" Lone asked.
"Nope. I've got a herbalist's apprenticeship from noon to dusk and I'll be in bed the moment I come back. I'll see you tomorrow morning though," Grella's brother said.
"Okay. By the way, I'm Lone and this is Soph - Sophie when she’s feeling spicey," Lone said as he gestured to himself and then the lovely woman by his side.
Soph frowned and poked his ribs a bit but she did offer a shy smile to the man. Clearly, she would have rather not been brought up at all.
Nodding, the man answered, "Nice to meet yous both. I'm Phil."
"Likewise, Phil." With that done, both Lone and Soph left the inn.
Checking his map once more, Lone mumbled, "So this is the most acclaimed smith's shop in Ranton? I wonder if they can only make armour or if they just have a super high level in that skill?"
Lone walked into the well-decorated building as he held Soph's hand. Once inside, he could see armours of all kinds completely filling the shop floor, however, they were all arranged perfectly so as to give enough room to move around as well as to best display each item.
There were a handful of basic weapons and some odds and ends in a corner, but it was clear as day that this place sold armour. Fancy and ornate armour at that.
Since it was still quite early, there were only a few customers inside, all of which looked at Lone with interest or clear contempt.
He tried his best to ignore that as he headed towards one of the three serving counters at the back of the room.
"Can I help you, Miss?" the clerk asked as he blanked Lone and looked at the blind Soph.
"U-Um... Em.. Lone... He... Um..." Soph was hardly socially adept, even less so when spoken to without having prepared beforehand.
Lone tightened his grip on her hand and said, "I was wondering if you could help us. My master is very shy, so if you don't mind, please speak with me, not her."
"Hmm..." The man behind the counter gave the two of them a quizzical glance before he shrugged. "Okay. How can I help you, demi?"
'Just demi? Could be worse, I guess,' Lone thought. "Well, I was wondering if it was possible to apply for an apprenticeship under the armoursmith who owns this business? If not, then perhaps under one of their students? I'm eager to learn the craft."
The man behind the counter laughed in Lone's face. "A demi learning under Master Seloph? Not in a million years. If you're not here to buy something or get something repaired, then piss off, yeah?"
Lone scowled. "My master has afforded me a lot of coin for this should the apprenticeship fees be a bit more expensive for a demi such as myself."
"Hah. Look, demi, do you even have the Metalworking skill or the Blacksmithing one? I won’t ask for Armoursmithing but you need at least something of value beyond money. Do you have either one of those skills? Even just beginner rank?" the clerk asked mockingly.
"No, but I do have the Logging and Woodworking skills. Shipbuilding and Masonry too. I’m good with my hands and crafting in general. so I'm sure some of that is transfer-"
"See? You've got no skills but you come in here demanding Master Seloph teaches you herself? Fuck off. You're not welcome here. Neither you nor your master," the man rudely said as he interrupted Lone.
Another customer chuckled. “A Golden Foxkin slave and a crippled master. Now I’ve seen everything.”
A second nodded. “Considering his looks, he’d make a good sex slave for those lonely widows you see in the noble district.”
“Better them than being wasted on such a beauty like that cripple there. I wonder who she is? I’ve never heard of a blind noblewoman in Milindo. A commoner, maybe?” the last customer in the shop questioned.
Lone felt himself being taken over by his quickly-building rage. He did manage to reign it in though since he knew he couldn't afford to lash out here for this blatantly unfair treatment.
‘What rude fucks. We’re literally standing right here. I should toss a Lightning Bolt or two their way… That would be immature though,’ he sighed in his mind.
"Fine. I'm sorry to have wasted your time," he said as he bowed his head lightly and then walked out of the shop with Soph in tow.
Silently and secretly, the pitch-black orb that Lone kept in his front-right trouser pocket pulsed excitedly before it settled down again.
"This is the demi-run smithy?" Lone asked himself. “Honestly? Looks like a mini fort. I expected worse for the slums. Soph, can you feel anyone inside?"
She nodded her head with hints of uncertainty in her expression. "I think so? There are two people in there. Both of them are really short. They're only slightly taller than the goblins, but one of them doesn't feel like a child, so maybe they're demis?"
"Huh... A short demi race? Do they look like humans?" Lone questioned.
Soph nodded once again. "Yup."
"Maybe some sort of gnome or dwarf? I guess there's only one way to find out." Lone raised his fist and knocked on the metal door a few times.
"Ah, fer fook's sake..."
The sound of locks being opened filled Lone's ears before the big metal door slowly swung open and a beard-covered face angrily frowned towards him.
"Ah fookin' teld ye. Ah'll nae make any fookin' arms or armour fae ah prick wae ah stick so far up 'is own arse ‘at ah can see the blasted thing pokin' oot o’ 'is mouth!" the man screamed, phlegm flying everywhere.
A few seconds of silence passed as Lone and this short man with ginger scruffy hair and a well-braided beard stared at one another.
"A dwarf?" Lone muttered.
The man half Lone's height only scowled even fiercer. "Ye'r naw ‘at arsewipe fae afore. Who the fook're ye?"
"Um..." Lone was incredibly shocked. 'Okay. So accents are obviously a thing here, but really? This guy is more Scottish than even I am... What the fuck...'
"Ah asked ye who ye were, laddie. Ye gonna tell us? If naw, then get tae fook. Ah've work tae do." The apparent dwarf started closing the door, but Lone caught it.
"Sorry. I was just a bit shocked. I've never met a demi like you before. My name's Lone, and this is Soph. I want to learn how to forge weapons, armour, everything metal, really. So, if you'd have me, I'd like to become your apprentice. I've got plenty of coin if that's an issue," Lone said quickly.
One of the man's caterpillar-like eyebrows shot up. "Apprentice?"
"Yes, apprentice. I heard that you were a great and very versatile smith, and, I mean, we’re both demis. Gotta stick together in this shithole, right?" Lone honestly replied.
"... An’ ye've got coin?" the apparent dwarf asked.
Lone nodded. "Yes, lots. I'll pay you whatever your rates are, and I promise to take your teachings very seriously."
The bearded man let go of the door and wore a toothy grin. "In 'at case, come on in. Let's talk over a mug ah mead or two. Ah'm Grimsley, the best fookin’ smith ye’ll find ootside o’ ah krieg fae several kingdoms over."
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