Jack rinsed his mouth thoroughly with a jug of milk as he and Dingo's crew traversed down the streets of Grumgrod. It's been almost half an hour since he ate that god-awful curry and yet the spicy sensation still lingered in his mouth. As he tried to work through the pain, he could see at the corner of his eye Dingo and Frilbert snickering at his suffering. Meanwhile, Raven and Musashi remained comparatively passive, which he supposed he should be thankful for as they do not care to add to his humiliation.

"You're doing alright there, mate?" Dingo said, patting Jack in the back.

"No thanks to you," replied Jack. "You should have at least warned me about the trial."

"Where's the fun in that? Besides, you did alright. You've passed the trial with flying colors. That's something to be proud of! You have no idea how many people have ditched the chance of becoming part of the Crimson Flame simply on the first bite of that curry."

"Yeah? Well, I wouldn't be surprised."

"So, now that you've met Suraj, what do you think of him?"

"He's kinda cool, I guess. I'm more shocked about his wife and daughter. I mean, no offense, but...elves?"

Frilbert whipped his head towards Jack in response to that comment, his frills spreading outward. "Hey, don't you look down on Lady Gaelinel and little Mitra! They may be elves, but they are good elves! Well, technically Mitra is half-elven but you get the idea."

"People often make the assumption that the Crimson Flame is strictly an anti-elven organization, which we are not," Dingo elaborated. "Sure, the main enemy we face against are the Elrinthians, which comprised almost entirely of elves, but that doesn't mean we hate all elves in general. We even have several elven members of our own and are not against recruiting elven members unlike most of the other magic-prohibition rebel groups. In fact, you could say that Gaelinel hates the Elrinthians just as much as we do. Perhaps even more."

"Really? How so?" asked Jack.

"There's a bit of complicated history and politics surrounding it but it essentially boils down to the Elrinthian Civil War, which splits Elrinthia into two separate sovereignties: Northwestern Elrinthia and Southeastern Elrinthia. Gaelinel's parents were killed in that war and she herself had suffered cruelty under the Elrinthian aristocracy for quite a while until Suraj rescued her from it. The couple had been through a lot since then. Rest assured, unlike most of the elves you've met so far, Gaelinel is a kind woman with a heart of an angel. Her loyalty to Suraj and to the Crimson Flame is unquestionable, so you don't need to worry about that."

"Lady Gaelinel is not the only one who has suffered," Musashi added, facing towards some of the elven civilians in the streets. While the proportion of elves amongst the populace was small compared to the other races, it's still large enough to be noticeable. "You see all these elves around here? Most of them have immigrated here to escape the Elrinthian Civil War. Over the years, these elves have established themselves into a strong elven community outside of the twin Elrinthias. Even so, it wasn't without its problems. The last Divinium War has left the dwarves of Dorencor with a bad perception towards the elves. Because of that, there is quite a bit of racial tension between the dwarves and the elves living around here, which sometimes turns into violent confrontations. It is quite sad, really."

"Damn. All this because of fighting over divinium?" asked Jack.

"There has always been prejudice between the races, even before the discovery of divinium and the war against the demons," Raven pointed out. "While the Divinium Wars have indeed exacerbated relations between the races, it only contributed a small part in the overall conflict. I suppose that is the nature of the Civil races. Well, that's not to say the Wilder races are any better."

"Enough gloomy talk, Raven," Dingo said with a confident grin. "We're revolutionaries! It's our job to change all that, isn't it? And with a new recruit in our hands, I'm sure our job is gonna get a little bit easier."

"One measly recruit is nothing to be impressed by." Raven's subtly insulting comment gave Jack's pride a bit of a sting.

"Well, this recruit won't be so measly once we take him to get a makeover, now would he?"

"Yeah, speaking of which, where are we headed?" asked Jack.

"Why, to get you some fine clothes, of course!" answered Dingo. "And maybe some other utility items if you incline. No offense here, mate, but I've seen paupers from Rudhbor who've dressed better than you." Jack looked down at the clothes he's wearing and, unfortunately, couldn't agree more. After the adventure he went through, his linen clothes had gotten a fair amount of dirt on them. Forget new clothes, he's in desperate need of a shower. "As much as I hate to admit it, most people will judge you based on your looks. So, if you're gonna start an uprising, you might as well look cool doing it. Dress to impress and all that. Don't worry about the price, though. The Crimson Flame will cover the cost as long as you don't go too crazy with it."

"No enchanted clothing though," Raven warned sternly. "The Crimson Flame's funds are already running dry as it is. We couldn't afford any more lavish spending."

"Ahh, come on, Raven. At least provide the kid with something a bit more than the basics. Maybe a Mageward amulet or a Stoneheart ring or something like that. I would hardly call that lavish. Besides, since he's gonna be working with us, it would help us out in the long run."

Raven gave Dingo a cold stare. "If you want to indulge him, that's coming out of your pocket. I sure won't be forking over my coin."

Dingo moved over to Jack and whispered into his ear. "I don't want to say it, mate, but Raven can be a bit stingy sometimes."

Even at that low of a whisper, Raven could still hear that comment. Feeling a bit annoyed by it, she activated a small glyph with her staff, summoning a couple of indigo ethereal crows to peck at Dingo for a bit.

"Oww! Oww! Alright, I'm sorry!" Dingo cried out, shielding his head from the crows with his arms. "Sorry for badmouthing you, Madame Raven! Please stop! Have mercy upon this lowly furro!"

The interaction between them was so hilarious that Jack couldn't help but let out a chuckle in response.

They soon arrived at a district within the city that was almost completely comprised of blacksmith workshops and forges. Jack remembered Dingo referring this as the 'Blacksmith District', which seemed like an apt name. Everywhere he saw, there were nothing but dwarven blacksmiths working diligently on their craft. One of them would pump the bellows at a furnace to make the flames hotter. Another would hammer a piece of red-hot iron on an anvil. And yet another would sharpen an axe at a grindstone. Seeing these proud dwarven blacksmiths hard at work made Jack amped up to see what's ahead of him.

Dingo and the others soon entered into one of the shops. Although Jack couldn't tell what the shop's name was since it was written in an incomprehensible fantasy language, he could deduce from the icon of a shield and dual crossing axes on the wooden signage that he was walking into a weapons shop of some kind. Entering through the shop's front door, Jack was greeted with a fairly magnificent view inside. While the interior of the shop wasn't large by any means---in fact, it felt almost kind of cramped with the five of them inside---it was filled to the brim with all sorts of weapons, armor, clothing, and accessories.

Behind the counter were two people, each working on a different task. One was a dwarven man in a blacksmith apron---his wild ginger hair and beard seemed almost like orange flames---working on hammering a piece of red-hot metal at an indoor forge. The other was a human woman in a violet silk robe---her skin as dark as midnight and her dreadlocks neatly tied into a ponytail---etching runic patterns onto a breastplate laid out on a table using some sort of pencil-like tool that glowed rainbow at its tip.

"Oi! Oren! Yemi! How's my favorite blacksmith and enchantress doing?!" Dingo called out, catching the two people's attention. The moment they saw Dingo and the others, they immediately paused their work in order to give them a warm welcome.

"Dingo! Good to see you back!" the dwarven man greeted cheerily before giving Dingo a hearty brotherly hug.

"You've been gone quite a while," the dark-skinned woman said with an alluring smile, her voice having a sort of flirtatious quality to it. "We thought you might have run into some trouble. Glad that wasn't the case."

"Oh, there is trouble. But you know me, Yemi. It isn't fun without at least a little bit of trouble involved. Just as long as I'm able to get out of it," Dingo said before guiding Jack to meet the two of them. "By the way, I'd like you two to meet our newest recruit, Jack Slater. Grabbed him all the way from Ingenwell. Long story short, I had to rescue him out of a jail cell."

"Woah there! You made it sound as though I'm entirely helpless before you came along," said Jack.

Dingo raised a brow. "You mean you aren't?"

"Hey, that's a low blow and you know it." Jack puffed out his chest and placed his hands on his hips as a way to flaunt his confidence. "I could have easily figured out a way sooner or later. I'm may not look like much but I'm kind of a resourceful guy."

"That you are." Dingo chuckled as he playfully ruffled Jack's hair, treating him like some sort of child that's boastfully acting like an adult. "Anyway, I've already took him to meet Suraj. Passed the trial and everything. A bit on the weird side but, overall, a pretty nice guy." Dingo then turned Jack to introduce him to the two. "Jack, this is Oren and Yemi Kronli, owners of Kronli's Smithshop. They are the couple who provides all the gear and crafting services for the Crimson Flame. Every sword and staff, every piece of armor and garment, every blade sharpening and etched rune---all came from these two masters of the craft. Now, I don't think I'm exaggerating here when I say these two are the best blacksmith and enchantress in all of Dorencor."

"Well now, I'm just outright flattered," Oren said, brushing his thick ginger beard. "However, the best blacksmith in all of Dorencor is not a title to be taken lightly. I can assure you there'll be plenty of hot-blooded dwarves out there who would challenge me on that front. Best enchantress, on the other hand, is a whole different matter. I have no doubt in my mind that my wife is the best enchantress in all of Dorencor, partly because she's just that great and also because most other enchanters in Dorencor are just lousy in general."

"Oh, Oren. Now who's the one being flattering," Yemi cooed.

"Nothing wrong with spitting out facts, my dear. Your skills are matched only by your beauty. Anyway, I see you've recruited another human." Oren scanned Jack from top to bottom as if analyzing every detail about him. "And a bit on the scrawny side, to boot. Gotta say, Dingo, I'm disappointed. Couldn't you have gotten another dwarf to join the ranks of the Crimson Flame? Not that there's anything wrong with a human recruit, mind you. I've just always felt that the Crimson Flame nowadays is lacking that go-getting vigor that only dwarves can provide."

"Well, every dwarf in Dorencor who's worth his salt has already joined the war effort into fighting demons," Dingo pointed out. "And you've always said that any dwarf living in Halandril is probably a King Helik sympathizer and thus have less spine than a quadriplegic mudworm."

"I didn't say that. Not every Halandrilian dwarf is a spineless sod, just that most of them are. Take my uncle, Bjoran Kronli, as a fine example to that exception. He may have lived in Halandril most of his life but, deep down, he is still a true dwarf at heart."

It was then that Jack noticed something in that statement. "Wait, Bjoran? As in Bjoran the Firebeard, the founder of the Crimson Flame?! You're saying that he's your...uncle?!"

"That's right," Oren said, beating a fist in his chest. "I am the nephew of the great Bjoran the Firebeard. Loud and proud!"

Jack observed Oren's features carefully and noticed that he did look a bit similar to the portrait of Bjoran in Suraj's room, particularly the fiery-orange hair and beard. "Huh, now that I think about it, I can certainly see the family resemblance. So I'm guessing you joined the Crimson Flame out of family obligation then."

"Hardly! Uncle Bjoran has always been kind of the black sheep of the family. The dwarves have always took pride in being masters of blacksmithing and craftmanship and none are more famous for it than the Kronli family. Pretty much every Kronli that's ever been born had grown up to become a master blacksmith or craftsman. Had been for generations. However, Bjoran rejected all that and decided to become a scholar instead. A scholar in magic and sorcery no less, which have always been the domain of the elves!"

"I don't see anything wrong with being a magical scholar," Yemi interjected. "While Professor Bjoran was disowned by his family, he gained respect in Halandril as one of the most prominent non-elven masters of magic, rivaling even those elven archmages from Elrinthia. In fact, when he taught magic at the University of Halandril, I was one of his students. It was through Professor Bjoran that Oren and I first met."

"A strange twist of fate that was," Oren said, looking lovingly at Yemi. "Anyway, you can imagine how Uncle Bjoran's career path had basically made him an outcast to the rest of the family. I can specifically remember my father telling me to never ever associate myself with Uncle Bjoran in any sort of way."

"Judging by how you are here providing the Crimson Flame with weapons and stuff, I'm guessing you didn't listen," Jack said.

"You've got that right, though it wasn't exactly a decision I've made on a whim. It came upon me gradually and a lot of things had happened that led me into that decision but, looking back at it now, I don't regret it one bit. Anyway, enough about me and my uncle's past history. If I were to tell you the entire story, it would take all night! Plus, I frankly do not wish to tell a longwinded story without at least a pint of ale in my belly. So, young recruit, what can I get for you?"

"Umm, before that, could I get my hotbed back? You did have it fixed right?" Frilbert asked.

"Sure thing, my scaly pal. Here ya go." Oren reached his hand to the back of the counter to bring Fribert what appeared to be a slab of stone with runic patterns on it that was about the size and shape of a briefcase. It even had a leather-strap handle on it similar to that of a briefcase. "Now, I can fix a hotbed as many times as you like but we both know that's not the real problem here."

"You've got to stand up to that Snapjaw or else he'll just keep on pushing you around," Yemi added. "Be more assertive, Frilbert!"

"Yeah, yeah, I know," Frilbert whimpered, his frills drooping down. "I'll get to it sooner or later. It's just not that easy, alright."

Yemi sighed and shook her head. "I'm sure you know what's best." She then guided Jack to another section of the shop. "Anyway, allow me to show you to our wardrobe. We have a great selection of clothing. I'm sure we could find you what you're looking for."

"Oh, uhh, sure. Thank you." said Jack.