Dallion made a dozen more attempts to construct his first item between lunch and dinner. He’d spend hours reading through instructions, following what passed as best practices, only to find out he couldn’t make heads or tails of the markers. There was one thing on which tomes, scrolls, and Nil could agree upon: it was always recommended that novices started with tin—or iron, if tin wasn’t as available in the local real-life area—and gradually work their way up to more advanced metals. Having his first hammer be for one of the most complicated metals in existence was accompanied with an impossibly steep learning curve. Just in comparison, making a dagger out of metal included five steps and a total of twenty-three actions.

An encouraging melody echoed in Dallion’s head.

“Don’t worry, Harp,” he said, lying on his bed. “It’s fine. I was half expecting this.”

To be exact, Dallion knew he’d have problems, but hoped he’d be able to wiggle himself out of them. As it turned out, the only option he now had was to learn a secondary material in real life. In the short term, that was slightly more difficult—he’d have to gain knowledge and experience as a non-awakened person, potentially needing months to grasp the basics. However, there was no doubt he’d have required years to learn sky silver smithing. In the end, despite the hiccup, it still was a better investment… or so Dallion believed.

Maybe I’ll try again later. For now, time to get ready for the celebration, Dallion thought.

Normally having a big event meant big pay and potentially large tips. However, right now he couldn’t wait for it to be over with so he could toy some more with forging. One of the magnificent things of forging in his awakened realm was that there was no penalty for mistake.

“I’ll be heading to work,” Dallion said for the shield’s benefit. It was starting to sound as if he was living with a roommate that didn’t have a cellphone. “Keep an eye on the orchid for me?”

Nothing will happen to the orchid, the shield replied. Just have fun and take it easy down there. Work and drinks don’t mix well unless you’re someone like me.

Good to know, Dallion thought, and left the room.

Downstairs everything was ready to accommodate the expected crowd. Hannah had rearranged a few tables, moving them close to one another so as to create the equivalent of a giant one. A few more were added near the corners, mostly for aesthetic purposes.

“Dal, you’re here,” the innkeeper said the moment she saw him. “Help me with the food.”

“Sure.” Dallion went to the kitchen. A host of large platters filled with food were already prepped, waiting for him. “That’s a lot of food,” he said, grabbing two of them. “How many people are there?”

“That’s for starters,” Hannah replied, carrying one. “Aspan will make more as in the course of the evening. I’m hoping it won’t be longer than four hours.”

“More? Are we expecting a pack of wolves?”

“Awakened,” Hannah grunted. “Which is pretty much the same.”

“Awakened are coming here?” Dallion found the notion mildly surprising. From his experience for the most part they would gather to eat at their guildhall. In fact, several guild members he knew ate exclusively there. When asked, they had mentioned that the food in their usual place wasn’t good enough once they leveled up. Dallion had been extremely fortunate in that respect, but for the most part, inns simply couldn’t afford cooks that made dishes for an awakened palate.

“They are celebrating.” Hannah placed the platter on one of the grouped tables. Following her example, Dallion did the same. “It’s not that unusual. That’s the plus in having a good cook. You get a lot of customers from the guilds. The Icepickers buy a lot of food from here. Jiroh takes it there, when she isn’t busy. Maybe I should find someone else to do deliveries as well.”

“I can help,” Dallion offered on his way back to the kitchen.

“You’re an awakened. You can’t do deliveries. Besides, I can’t afford you.”

“I’m not asking to be paid,” Dallion laughed. “I go there every day for work, it’s no problem for me to—”

“No. Let’s just leave it at that.”

Unspoken laws, Nil said in Dallion’s head. It’s discouraged having awakened do work that doesn’t have to do with awakening. That’s why you don’t see any of them cleaning sewers in the real world. Of course, working on city maintenance is just as disgusting, often even more. The difference is that it’s something only awakened can do.

The concept came as no surprise, though Dallion didn’t expect it to be observed to such a degree. Possibly it had to do with the awakened’s perception. Being surrounded by sewer smells at his level of perception was truly a terrifying though. On the other hand, Dallion was halfway to comparing himself to an ant when it came to listing things. Not that he had tested it, but doing handstands proved so effortless now that Dallion didn’t even consider it special.

One by one, all the platters were moved to the tables. Once that was done, jugs of water and ale followed. There was no wine; Hannah had no intention of awakened getting drunk in her inn. A few scented candles were added—a special request made by the clients—then the waiting began. Dalllion couldn't help but feel curious as to who would arrive and what the occasion would be. For better or worse, he didn’t have to wait long.

The first person arrived almost at seven. From her looks, it was obvious that she was an organizer. Dressed in the medieval version of a business suit, the woman gave Hannah a quick nod, then went to check the arrangements.

Damn it, Nil grumbled. What’s she doing here?

That didn’t sound good, but in the present circumstances Dallion thought it better not to ask for details.

“That’s just the starter,” the innkeeper explained. “We can keep the food going for a while. Aspan can handle the quality, but speed might be an issue.”

“Not a problem,” the woman said. Her voice was unusually sharp. “There won’t be a lot of them, so this should be enough.”

“I trust there will be no alcohol this time?” The innkeeper narrowed her eyes.

“If there is, they’ll fix everything broken.”

“No need. I have an awakened as well now.” Hannah turned to Dallion. “Dallion, this is Fire Sky, captain of the Flameforge guild.”

Flameforge? The name rang a bell. It was considered to be one of the top five guilds in Nerosal. Dallion had looked into it after his mugging. According to Nil, the five guilds were skill, respected, and annoyingly arrogant. They also had multiple guildhalls throughout the city. Just five months ago, due to a series of successful large jobs, they had increased their influence, rising to number three of the top five.

“A pleasure, captain.” Dallion bowed slightly.

“Dallion?” Fire arched a brow. “I heard mention of you. You were March’s pick, right?”

“She conducted my entry test, yes.” It had been five seconds since Dallion had met Fire Sky, and already he disliked the woman. She was one of those snobs that made it a point to prove how inferior everyone else was. Using his music skills of observation, it came to no surprise that she considered Dallion to be even more insignificant than he thought she would.

“Good. Take care of the small things. If anything, major is damaged I’ll have the people involved step in. And we’ll pay for everything broken, of course.”

The last sounded unpleasant. Dallion was proud not to have had anything completely broken in about a week. For an awakened to say the phrase so casually meant that she didn’t care overly about the item guardians.

“Of course.” Dallion kept on smiling. “Anything else you’d like me to help with?”

“He’ll be serving,” Hannah quickly said. “Just the food. Your pack is old enough to pour their own drinks, I hope?”

“That’s arguable.”

Interesting enough, that comment made Dallion dislike the woman slightly less. It wasn’t that she had a low opinion of him, but rather that she regarded most people beneath her. Knowing Earth corporate culture, this probably was the way to rise in a large guild. It also made Dallion far more thankful not to be in such an environment.

As more of the Flameforge guild members arrived, Dallion’s notion was only strengthened. For the most part they were about his age, overconfident, and arrogant befitting a major guild. They also appeared to be rather fond of brawls and fighting. While waiting, Nil had filled Dallion in, that the Flameforge guild was a military guild, which meant they were used for two main things: mercenary activities and weapon improvement. Weapon improvement was pretty much what one would expect, although mercenary activities had a slightly ominous ring to it.

“Hey, rookie!” someone yelled at Dallion. “Bring some more food, will you?”

“Sure.” Dallion sighed mentally and went to the kitchen. Aspan had been working wonders, so there were a few more platters ready. Dallion grabbed one, even if there was plenty of food in the main hall, and brought it to the table.

“This all?” the Flameforge guildmember asked. He was a head taller than Dallion, with massive arms and, so far, a pretty rotten attitude.

“I can bring more when the food starts finishing.” Dallion kept his cool. “Big job, I take it?”

An inner urge made him try to get somewhat friendly, and that turned out to be a serious mistake. The other man smirked, as if waiting for an excuse, then crossed his arms in a clear display of dominance.

“All our jobs are big. We’re one of the top three guilds in the city, so we get called when there’s trouble to deal with. And I’m not talking about sanitation jobs. We’re the people who get sent out when others can’t handle stuff.”

Keep calm, Dallion told himself. It’s not worth starting a scene. It’s just a job…

“What about your guild? I hear that you take whatever scraps you can find. Thank the Seven that March showed up to save you. The guild was a dump before that. No one wanted to have anything to do with you. Now only most don’t.” The man laughed at his own joke. It was at this point that Dallion had had enough.

“Actually, I’ve been exclusively on exploration missions.”

“Yeah, right! I bet you’re some low-level packrat that hasn’t even passed his selection trial.”

The insult was oddly specific. The person wasn’t just being annoying, he was specifically looking for a fight. Given his approach, it was easy to avoid any confrontation, but the question was, should Dallion let him do so. Pausing for a few moments, he looked at Hannah. Remaining perfectly silent, the woman shook her head.

“Didn’t quite hear that,” Flameforge guildie said.

“Yep, you’re right. I’m just a packrat.” Dallion stepped away. “Let me know if there’s anything else I can bring you.”

“Hey!” A large hand was slammed on Dallion’s shoulder. “I wasn’t finished talking to you.”

“What else is there to say?” Dallion turned around briskly. Self-control was one thing, but he wouldn’t stand for being humiliated in such fashion. “Need someone to carry you during your jobs?”

“You carry me?” The other laughed. “I’d like to see that.”

“Mord, that’s enough,” Fire Sky warned, although her tone suggested she wasn’t overly concerned or bothered with what was going on. If anything, she was letting him know that any damages to the inn would be paid from his pocket.

“I think someone just issued a challenge, Captain,” Mord shouted so that the few people who weren’t paying attention would start doing so. “It’s not against the rules to accept, right?”

“He’s just a kid, Mord. Let him be.”

“With due respect, I think that’s for him to decide.” The man then turned back to Dallion. “So, rookie, what will it be? Run with your tail between your legs or confirm the challenge. Both work for me. I’ll just laugh more when you run away.”

“In that case… I confirm the challenge.” Dallion could see through the other’s shallow plans, but this was an opportunity he didn’t intend to miss. “So. What now?”