Rise of the Living Forge - Chapters 101-103 (Patreon)

Note: Going to add a bit to Lillia's class, I like the idea of a satisfaction meter. Will update you all when updates are done. 

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Wooden wheels rattled against old cobblestone. They ground to a halt, punctuated by a thunk as Arwin released the handles of the wagon and let out a weary sigh, wiping the sweat from his forehead with the back of a hand.

His cart was completely stuffed full of materials. Brick, mortar, everything he needed to start construction on the smithy with even more reserved at the mason’s shop. In addition, he’d bought 3 ingots of Brightsteel and a whetstone for himself. He’d also brought back a barrel of oil and a large crate of ingredients for Lillia.

Reya hopped off the top of the cart. “Thanks for the ride.”

“I never offered one,” Arwin said dryly. Reya just flashed him a grin and headed into the tavern.

“Lillia! Come look what we got!” Reya called, her voice muffled as she headed deeper into the tavern in search for the former demon queen. “Arwin has a gift for you!”

“Oh?” Lillia’s voice joined Reya’s and the two of them poked their heads out of the tavern a second later.

Did Reya really have to word it like that?

“I got some ingredients while I was out,” Arwin said, stepping onto the cart and picking up the crate with a grunt. He dropped down and held it out to Lillia. “Mostly basic stuff. I think. Flour, fresh water, cured meats and spices, the like. Nothing perishable.”

A huge grin split Lillia’s lips. “Thank you. This is fantastic.”

“We’ll get you some more once you give Reya a list of exactly what you need,” Arwin said. “I got a lot of what I needed and we’ve still got 50 gold left over. I honestly might still be underpricing the armor a bit. Brightsteel isn’t cheap – but I made that stuff with what was functionally mixed scrap, and I don’t know if people would pay more for something made by an unknown smith.”

“Relatively unknown,” Reya corrected. “You got recognized!”

“You did?” Lillia asked. “In a good way?”

“Yeah,” Arwin said. “The brother of the first adventurer I sold something to told me that my armor saved his life. We sold the brother one of the chest plates.”

“That’s nice,” Lillia said with a smile. “What about the other piece?”

“Charity,” Reya grumbled.

“Not charity,” Arwin corrected, flicking her in the shoulder. “An investment. There was a one-armed warrior that clearly knew her way around a fight. I gave it to her for 80 gold, but she owes me another 120 for it and a sword once she earns the money.”

“Ah. Getting her hooked, are you?”

“Yep,” Arwin said with a nod. “Though that makes it sound pretty nefarious. I just think pulling in some repeat customers would be beneficial. I need a lot of money, after all.”

“Aside from the materials to repair the smithy and more metal, what else do you need?” Lillia asked.

“Well, money to fix up the tavern as well. Definitely lots of materials and the like as well,” Arwin ticked points off his fingers as he spoke. “I also want to get some guides on smithing. I’ve been bullshitting thus far, but things have slowed down enough for me to start really learning the proper way to do them instead of using the Mesh as a crutch.”

“That could be wise,” Lillia mused. “I wonder if there are any books on proper keeping up a tavern.”

“I’m sure there are,” Reya said. “I could keep an eye out for both, but I try to avoid going inside shops whenever I can.”

“We can ask Rodrick or Anna when they get back from their date,” Lillia said. “They’re still out getting dinner.”

“That’s cute,” Arwin said. “Do you think they’re married?”

Lillia shrugged in response. “They could be. I honestly don’t know. Either that or going to be soon from the way they act.”

“I’ve never been to a marriage before,” Reya said. She paused for a moment, then cleared her throat. “Well, I was actually at one for a very short amount of time. About as long as it took me to nab a piece of cake and run out before they realized I wasn’t invited.”

“Somehow, I could have guessed that,” Arwin said with a snort of laughter. “I’m going to get to working on building up the smithy again. It’s probably going to take a while, and I’d like to move back in as soon as possible.”

“Maybe you should spend some money hiring someone to help you,” Lillia suggested. “You could probably afford it if you can keep making armor at the rate you are right now.”

“That’s a tempting idea,” Arwin admitted. He rubbed his chin. “I’ll look into it tomorrow. Maybe its arrogant, but I want to at least start on my own. The foundations from the old smithy are still there, so I think laying bricks shouldn’t be completely beyond my abilities. I suppose we’ll find out.”

“Well, let us know if you need help,” Reya said. “In the meantime… Lillia, do you have anything to eat?”

“Yeah. Give me a second.” Lillia headed back into the kitchen. Arwin nodded to Reya, then set out himself. There wasn’t all that much time left in the day and he didn’t want to go and waste it.

He picked the handles of the cart back up and, using [Scourge], dragged it over to the plot of land where his smithy had once stood and would stand again. He set it down and brushed his hands off before climbing on to start ferrying materials over to a more accessible spot.

Arwin took extra care with the jugs of grout. It would have been really annoying if he broke one and had to waste time cleaning it up – not to mention the wasted material. Once he got everything set back up in the smith, he got to work.

The outside wall felt like the most logical spot to start with. It was also the easiest, at least as far as he could tell. It wasn’t like the area he had to build with was changing, and he just wanted a square building.

Arwin knelt on the ground and did his best to clean away all the dirt from the area before him before he started laying bricks with a thin layer of grout on their bottom. Time slipped by. The sun traced overhead and light faded, dipping into the night.

He finished several layers, spending more time than he cared to admit repositioning bricks that ended up being just slightly askew enough to catch his attention. It wasn’t exactly the most professional looking job he’d seen, but it didn’t look terrible.

At least, it doesn’t look terrible yet. I really don’t know that much about what I’m doing. Lillia was right. I should bring someone in that really knows what’s up to work on this tomorrow. I can help them instead of doing something stupid and having to restart.

Arwin brushed his hands and turned back to the tavern. Leaning on the wall of a crumbling building just to his side was the drunkard. He hadn’t even heard the man arrive.

“How long have you been there?” Arwin asked.

“A while.”

“Why?”

“I was watching.”

“That much is evident,” Arwin said. “Why?”

“Did you not want an audience?” the drunkard took a sip from his mug. “If not, you probably shouldn’t be standing around outside. Maybe you should build a house.”

Arwin looked around at the materials surrounding him. “What does it look like I’m doing?”

“How would I know?” the man took another long swing from his mug. “I wasn’t watching.”

“You literally just said you were.”

“Did I? I must have forgotten.”

Arwin shook his head. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to laugh or sigh. “Did you just come here to play with words? I was about to head inside and retire for the night, so if there was something you wanted, sooner might be better than later.”

“There are a lot of things I want,” the drunkard said. “I don’t think you can give me any of them, though.”

“Cryptic.”

“I’m a fan of intrigue. Makes things more interesting.” He took one last sip, draining the rest of his mug before wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “And much easier to forget. You seem to be better at doing that than I am.”

He glanced over his shoulder at the scattered materials behind him. Smudges of ash still marred the stone. No matter how hard he scrubbed, Arwin didn’t think they’d ever come off. “Forget? No. I don’t know if that’s possible. There’s a difference between forgetting something and moving on. Experiences shape you, not define you.”

The drunkard’s lips pursed. He checked his empty mug, then shook his head. “Sure thing. Say, you ever find that kid’s sword?”

Arwin frowned. “No. I assumed it was lost in the fire. How do you–”

The drunkard reached into his ratty coat and pulled out a short sword. Ash marred the handle and the blade was dented and warped. It only took Arwin one look to recognize it.

“That’s Zeke’s,” Arwin said. His eyes narrowed. “Why do you have it?”

“Pulled it out of the fire after things died down.”

“Why?”

“What a stupid question. To sell it. Just seems like it would be a stupid thing to do. Figure the only one that’s going to want to this is you.”

He tossed the sword over to Arwin, who caught it by the handle. The Mesh still tingled within the weapon, but it was so badly damaged that its magic effects were nowhere to be seen. Any magic that remained in it was weak at best.

“Thank you,” Arwin said after a second of silence. “I appreciate it.”

“You aren’t all pissy that I took the damn thing?”

“It probably would have been even more damaged if you hadn’t taken it, and you brought it back. Why would I complain about someone righting a wrong? I’d have a problem if you never brought it back.”

“You know what?” the drunkard asked. He sniffled and wiped his nose off on a sleeve. “I’m getting fed up with all your philosophical bullshit. Why can’t you just be a prick? It’s easier that way.”

“I can be an asshole if you want me to be.”

“Bah. It’s not interesting anymore.” the drunkard shook his head and wandered off, muttering under his breath until he faded from view. Arwin looked down at the sword in his hands, a frown creasing his lips and wrinkling his brow.

That’s definitely someone who’s seen his fair share of shit. Wonder what his deal is or why he’s hiding out in a supposedly haunted street. Running from someone? He’s drinking every single time I’ve seen him, so maybe the one he’s running from is himself.

Arwin stepped away from the smithy and set the sword on his cart. He dragged the cart back over to the side of the inn and parked it in a thin alleyway before retrieving the sword and heading inside.

Lillia stood by the bar, her form just barely outlined by flickering orange lanternlight. A woman sat in a stool across from her. He almost mistook her for Reya in the darkness before he caught a glimpse of her arm – or rather, the lack of it. Even her bright red hair was barely visible in the shadows. Arwin’s armor sat on the ground at her side. Apparently Olive had arrived a bit before he’d expected her to.

“Ah. There he is.” Lillia nodded over Olive’s shoulder.

“Am I late?” Arwin asked. He wasn’t wearing his mask yet, but he wasn’t so sure it mattered. The mask had been largely to deal with the Iron Hounds and get some publicity. Figuring out his identity wouldn’t be all that difficult for anyone that was really interested. “I got distracted.”

“Only a little,” Olive said. “It looked like you were a little busy. I didn’t want to disturb you, and you mentioned there was a tavern in the area. I figured it couldn’t hurt to try it out.”

“Oh?” Arwin walked over to join her. A plate sat on the table before her, polished clean. “How’d you like it?”

“Incredible,” Olive said. “But that might have just been because it’s been a while since I last had a hot meal. Can we…”

“Get you your sword and fix up your armor?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s the plan,” Arwin said with a nod. “Come with me and we’ll see what I can do for you.”

Chapter 102

Arwin stopped by the cart to hoist the large barrel of oil off and bring it over to his makeshift workshop. If Olive was surprised to see him lugging the huge container on his own, she didn’t say anything.

They walked past the remains of the smithy and over to the rickety house that was currently serving as his workshop. He held the door open for Olive, then let it swing shut behind them.

“This is… not exactly what I was expecting,” Olive hedged, turning to take in everything.

“It’s a work in progress.” Arwin put a hand on his anvil. “I made that armor in your hand here, and I’ll be able to do better once I’ve gotten the place a bit fixed up. Until then, do you really care where I work? Results are all that matter.”

“That’s true,” Olive said. “So how do we do this? I tested the armor out a bit. It’s definitely made for a man. Do I just tell you where it was uncomfortable?”

“It would be easier if you show me.”

“Figured,” Olive said. She reached to her side and fiddled with a strap for a few seconds to unravel a complicated looking knot. She gave it a sharp tug and her armor loosened instantly. Olive reached over her head and pulled the old armor off, setting it down before picking up the chestpiece that Arwin had forged and starting to pull it on.

“Do you–”

“No,” Olive snapped. “I don’t.”

Arwin nodded, falling silent again. Olive pulled the armor on herself and set about fastening it. She was surprisingly adept at putting it on, even without one of her hands. He was pretty sure she managed it faster than he would have with both hands.

“Okay. It’s on,” Olive said. She rapped her chest with two knuckles. “My chest is getting crushed, and the sides are a little too wide. I think it should fit well if you just do a little modification there.”

He walked in a circle around her, examining the armor. Olive’s assessment was right, but there were a few other problems that he was pretty sure he could fix without too much effort. The pauldrons were too wide for her shoulders and needed to be angled better to fit her body. On top of that, Olive was ever so slightly off balance.

I think the armor is a little bit too heavy for her. She’d probably adapt to it, but you don’t want to be adapting to anything when you’re heading into a dungeon. I should be able to take some weight off and redistribute it a bit better. Women don’t have the same center of gravity that men do.

“I see what I need to do,” Arwin said after a few seconds of studying the armor. He glanced around for something to mark it with – he didn’t want to rely on the Mesh and end up making the damn thing magical on accident. “Could you wait a second?”

Olive blinked, then shrugged. He stepped past her and headed over to the smithy, wiping some of the remaining soot off the ground and onto his hands. Once he’d gathered enough, he headed back over to rejoin her.

She watched him suspiciously as he drew some lines with soot to mark the locations that he needed to modify. Arwin took a step back to study his handiwork, then gave her a curt nod.

“That’s fine. You can take it off now.”

Olive did as instructed. A minute later, she’d pulled everything off and set it back on the ground, taking care to avoid mistakenly smudging any of the lines Arwin had drawn. She sent him an expectant look.

“Now what?”

“Now you go wait outside,” Arwin said. “Or, better yet, go sit down in the tavern. This will take a little.”

“You aren’t going to measure my arm or something for the sword?” Olive asked, lifting her hand and waving it around. “Don’t you need to figure out the length of the blade that suits me or something?”

“I mean, I could.” Arwin tilted his head to the side and rubbed his chin. He still had absolutely no idea about the finer parts of smithing – or the considerably less fine parts, for that matter – but he’d been using weapons for as long as he could remember. He’d wielded everything from daggers to great-axes and knew how to use all of them at a competent level. “But I’ll be honest, it wouldn’t do much for me. Unless you’ve got a specific request, I was just going to make you a short sword.”

“Is there a reason?”

“Yeah.” Arwin nodded to Olive’s missing arm. “That, or the lack thereof. You aren’t going to be able to do just about anything with a heavy weapon. Your balance is off. What you need is something fast and light.”

“Why not a dagger?”

Olive was testing him. That much was clear. He wasn’t sure why she’d waited until they’d already gotten here, but he didn’t care either way. The question was both reasonable and simple enough.

“Daggers aren’t going to be any good in most fights for someone fighting with armor. You’re clearly not aiming to gut things from the shadows if you’re clanking around. A long sword, as I previously mentioned, would be too difficult for you to wield. That leaves something a bit longer than a dagger but shorter than a full length or hand-and-a-half blade. We could do a falchion, but those are a little heavier than a short sword because their blade is wider. Thus, short sword. Satisfied?”

“Yeah. That’s fair logic,” Olive said with a nod. She picked up her armor and handed it to Arwin.  “When can I expect everything to be done?”

Arwin shrugged in response. “The armor modifications won’t take me all that long, but the sword will add a fair amount of time to that. I’d look into getting somewhere to stay for the night.”

A grimace passed over Olive’s features. Her hand shifted back to the pouch at her side before she could stop it. “Right. I’ll see what I can do. Tomorrow morning?”

“Tomorrow morning,” Arwin confirmed. If she didn’t have any money left, he suspected Lillia would find a way to accommodate for her. Offering more for free likely wouldn’t have done anything more than offend the warrior – and there was a limit to how much he could offer up. The tavern was Lillia’s, not his.

Olive nodded to him and headed out the door. Arwin waited until he’d heard the sound of her footsteps fade down the street before he turned to his hearth and tossed [Soul Flame] into it. He got to working all the leather padding out of the armor, removing the strips carefully and setting them down safely. After them followed the non-metal parts of the latches that held everything together.

Once the chestpiece had been stripped back down to its bare metal, Arwin took the pieces of the armor and set them into the flame to heat. The flame soon brought it to a wheat yellow. He brought the armor over to his anvil. Verdant Blaze formed in his hand and he worked the metal with firm but controlled strikes.

Time slipped away as it had tended to do as of late. He made the modifications to Olive’s armor without any difficulty and put the whole set back together, letting it rest at his side while he got to work on the sword.

He had a lot of Brightsteel to work with. It wasn’t exactly the best steel for making an entire blade. Its main property was its ability to absorb shock, not its hardness or aptitude for holding an edge.

Still, for my purposes right now, this should be more than enough. It’ll probably need sharpening more than other blades and isn’t going to be quite as sharp. I doubt either of those problems are going to be too big of an inconvenience for Olive as long as the sword functions well.

Arwin heated an ingot of Brightsteel to a dull orange. He brought it back to his anvil and started working it out into a flat sheet. He brushed away the black hammerscale that formed as he worked it, the heartbeat of his hammer thumping rhythmically through the building.

He soon had the steel worked out and formed into the rough shape of the blade. His concentration built as time swirled past him. The metal took the form of a sword, growing closer to a true weapon with every passing hour.

Darkness replaced the light as the sun set and the temperature outside the smithy started to lower. Arwin barely took notice. The heat of his [Soul Flame] was all he needed to keep working.

He finished the blade, quenched it in oil and cleaned it off once more, then set to work making a handle. Arwin opted for a metal grip and dug grips into it with the edge of his [Scourge] empowered fingertips.

After testing the handle to make sure the grip was sturdy, Arwin worked it onto the tang and capped it with a pommel that he worked onto the end with a mixture of heat and empowered strength.

He held the blade up before him, nodding to himself. It was definitely coming together well. The edges of the blade had needed more hammering than he was used to. But, after spending at least an extra hour than normal to make sure it was hard, Arwin was satisfied. There was only one thing left he had to do.

He headed back to the cart and retrieved the whetstone that he’d bought. As he worked on bringing a proper edge to the blade, Arwin smiled to himself. For a non-magical weapon, he was pretty proud of it. The sword was one of the first weapons that he’d made entirely himself. The Mesh hadn’t been involved in the slightest.

He’d have been lying if he claimed that the sword was the best weapon he’d ever made. It really wasn’t all that incredible in the grand scheme of things. But, for the price he’d asked and the risk he was taking on it, he felt that the result was more than acceptable.

Arwin brushed the blade off and set the whetstone down. Sharpening the blade had taken nearly as much time as actually forging it. He wasn’t sure if that was a property of the Brightsteel or if he just wasn’t very good at sharpening things. He retrieved the finished armor and walked over to the door, pushing it open to step out into the street.

The blade was done – and the sun had started to rise over the horizon. He’d been at it the entire night.

At least, I hope that it was just one night. It would be bad if I promised Olive that I’d be done in a day and then took two. [The Hungering Maw] doesn’t seem like it’s being too much of a pain right now, so it definitely hasn’t been too long. I should look into making a new emergency bracelet, though. Those have been incredibly helpful. Maybe I can get around to that after I send Olive on her way.

Olive wasn’t anywhere on the street that Arwin could see, so he headed down the street and over to the tavern. As he’d guessed, she was sitting at the counter. A plate sat before her, polished off some time ago. Her eyes were drooping with either boredom or weariness, but she sat upright as Arwin entered.

“That was faster than I thought,” Olive said, sliding out of her chair. “You finished?”

Arwin handed the finished sword over to her in response. He held onto the armor so she didn’t have to try to juggle both the armor and the weapon with one hand. Olive took it from him and raised it before her, testing the weight and balance.

“Well?” Arwin asked, a flicker of trepidation passing through him. The sword was the first weapon he’d given to anyone outside of his own guild, not to mention the lack of guidance the Mesh had given him. “What do you think?”

Chapter 103

“It’s… good,” Olive said, as if she were surprised to find that the words leaving her mouth actually belonged to her. She tilted the sword from side to side, studying the blade in the dim light from the lantern. “Is this made from Brightsteel?”

“It is,” Arwin said. “I know it isn’t exactly the hardest weapon, but it’s light.”

And it’s the only thing I really had on me at the time.

“No, this is good,” Olive said. She nodded to herself. “More than good enough for what I need here. Thank you, Ifrit. Is the armor…”

“Also done,” Arwin said. He held it out. Olive set her blade on the counter and took the armor from him. She slipped into it and tightened the straps, then stretched her arm over her head and twisted back and forth.

Even though Olive didn’t say anything, Arwin could make out enough of her expression in the darkness to read the delight in her eyes. The armor was definitely better than the sword – he’d had a lot more experience in recent time making it, so that wasn’t much of a surprise.

And defense is more important anyway. Better to survive a fight and fail to kill an enemy than to kill an enemy and fail to survive the fight. Not that I think the sword isn’t going to hold up, but –

“Is this really only one hundred and twenty more gold?” Olive asked, picking the sword back up from the table and holding it point-down before her. “There aren’t any hidden conditions? You don’t want anything else?”

“A glowing review would be appreciated. We live and die by our customers satisfaction.”

Olive squinted at Arwin. She slid the sword into an empty sheath at her side. A small smile tried to take form on her lips, but she crushed it ruthlessly before it could take more than an instant’s purchase. “You say we as if there’s someone else with you. Are you and the tavernkeeper working together?”

“We’re in a guild.” Arwin squinted into the kitchen in attempt to see if Lillia was lurking about anywhere. There wasn’t any sign of her – or of any other guildmembers, for that matter.

“You are?” Olive’s brow furrowed. “I wouldn’t have known. What guild?”

“We… don’t actually have a name yet.” Arwin cleared his throat, his satisfaction from a job well done abruptly replaced with the reminder that his guild technically wasn’t even official. “Soon, though. We haven’t submitted any of the paperwork.”

“Not much of a guild then, are you?” A small grin did manage to form on Olive’s lips this time around and she put a hand on the hilt of her new weapon. “But I don’t really care what you call yourself. I’ll get that money back to you as soon as possible. You’ve got nothing to worry about.”

“I wasn’t ever worried. Just don’t rush too much and end up getting yourself killed in the process,” Arwin warned.

“Don’t worry. Your investment will make it back to you in one piece,” Olive said. She stepped past Arwin and headed for the door. “I’ll be back within the week.”

“Hold on,” Arwin said. Olive glanced back at him, a flicker of worry and suspicion passing across her face.

“Yeah?”

“Where are you hunting? I assume you’re going to do a dungeon or clear out some monsters aboveground to sell them for parts, right?”

“Yeah, I am. Why?” Olive asked.

“Don’t go to the forest with the lizards,” Arwin advised. “It’s not safe right now. There’s a pretty good chance that there might be a Wyrm horde in the near future, and there’s an aggressive Wyrm lurking around it.”

Olive did a double take. “There’s a what? Are you serious?”

“Why would I lie?”

“I – never mind,” Olive said, blinking. “How do you know this? That’s a really serious problem. I’d say we should call the Adventurer’s Guild, but I don’t think they’d even bother sending people to Milten. Any proper guildmembers here would be just as liable to be run through by a human as a monster.”

“Seriously?” It was Arwin’s turn to blink. He was the farthest thing from a fan of the Adventurer’s Guild, but it hadn’t seemed like the sentiments in the city toward them were that bad.

“Yeah. Money doesn’t go a long way in Milten,” Olive said. “Are you new here or something? That would explain your low prices.”

Ah. It’s not that they don’t like the guild. Milten is just full of scumbags. I suppose I should have been able to guess that. One of these days I’m going to find that guard that acted like this city was some paragon of morality and poke him between the ribs.

“Yes. I just moved in. Lovely neighborhood, wouldn’t you say?” Arwin asked.

Olive didn’t even so much as crack a smile at his joke. She just nodded seriously. “Good for keeping people away, that’s for sure. Thanks again for the equipment. It’ll go a long way.”

“No problem,” Arwin said, raising a hand in farewell as Olive turned and headed out of the tavern.

He headed to the back to poke his head into the kitchen. It was pitch black. “Lillia? You there?”

“Yeah,” Lillia’s voice called back a second later. “One second.”

She emerged from her room and Arwin stepped out of the doorway to give her some room to pass him. Lillia walked into the common room and stood beneath the light of the lantern. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah. Do you know where everyone is? I saw Olive sitting around with some food so I knew you were around, but I haven’t seen the others.”

“Anna and Reya went out on a girl’s day. They invited me as well, but…” Lillia trailed off and looked down, sending a pointed glance at her tail. “I have some pre-existing conditions that make heading outside a little difficult.”

“Couldn’t we just hide your tail?” Arwin asked. “I could modify the armor–”

“My skin is purple, Arwin.”

“Ah. Right. Not particularly common, purple skin.”

“No,” Lillia agreed, a smile flitting across her face. “I don’t think it is. Besides, I need the tail for balance and fighting. I’d rather not have to hide it away. I can stick to the shadows and hide that way pretty effectively – but that’s not really a fun way to have a relaxing day.”

Arwin felt a twinge of sympathy. She was functionally trapped. Even if she could leave the city whenever she wanted, she couldn’t walk around freely. Either she had to cover herself with a long robe or walk in the shadows.

Getting around freely wasn’t truly free if she was constantly worried about being spotted. There would be no true relaxation for her. Not outside the street.

“I’m sorry,” Arwin said. “We’ll get this street to the point where it’s better than anywhere else in the city."

A smile drifted across Lillia’s face. “Thank you, Arwin. It isn’t that bad. Even if my tavern is the extent of where I can really walk around peacefully, I have nothing to complain about. Compared to what life used to be, this is heaven.”

“I can agree with that.” Arwin picked Olive’s plate up from the counter and stepped past Lillia into the kitchen. He set it down in the sink before walking back to rejoin her. “You said Reya and Anna went out together… so where is Rodrick?”

“He went out to try to see if he could pick up any useful information in regard to the Wyrms or the Iron Hounds,” Lillia replied. The candle in the lantern above her sputtered and winked out, plunging the room into darkness.

Lillia let out a curse under her breath. Arwin squinted through the dark, but he couldn’t see anything other than shifting blobs in the darkness. The lantern squeaked as Lillia fiddled with it. A moment later, fire sputtered back to life on the wick and the faint pool of orange-yellow light swam forth once more.

“Stupid thing,” Lillia said with a huff, closing the lantern again. “They’ve been going out randomly for days.”

“Is it your shadow magic getting too strong or something?”

“No. That would just swallow the light, not snuff it. Not unless I was intentionally trying to put it out it, at least. I’ve got no idea what’s causing it.” A small laugh slipped out from between Arwin’s lips. Lillia raised an eyebrow and tilted her head to the side, prodding him in the shoulder with a finger. “What?”

“I was just thinking that maybe the street really is haunted. The ghost just likes blowing out small candles.”

“I doubt it.” Lillia glanced over her shoulder at the lantern and laughed. “Ghosts are very real, but it’s pretty easy to tell when you’re around one. The temperature around you drops sharply and pressure builds around your chest and neck. You can’t miss it.”

“I’ve fought ‘em before. You had some in your army.”

“I did? That’s news to me. Nobody likes being near them for obvious reasons. Ghosts effect everything, not just their enemies. Guess the Monster Coalition must have sent them out on their own.”

“They were nasty bastards to fight,” Arwin said. “Incredibly difficult to kill. Only way I’ve seen it done is with holy magic or magical items specialized for it.”

“You can also do it by cutting whatever ties they’ve got to the magic keeping them around in the mortal world. But forget that – do you think a ghost would count as an inhabitant for my inn?”

“I suppose you’re going to have to ask the next time it comes around. But, ghosts notwithstanding, do you have any other plans? I’m probably going to be splitting today between rebuilding my smithy and trying to figure out what to forge next. Now more than ever, I need to work on getting us more powerful.”

“I’ll just be cooking. I’ve got a lot of new material to work with thanks to you,” Lillia said to Arwin with a soft smile. “Come get dinner with me at some point tonight. Don’t work through it again.”

A strange feeling passed through Arwin’s stomach, sparks of anticipation swirling and forming into knots at its bottom. He stifled the emotion before it could reach his face and slip into his expression. “That would be nice. Thank you. I’m not sure what time I’ll finish, though.”

“Don’t worry about it. I suspect I’ll be awake regardless.”

“Well, I’ll try not to take too long,” Arwin promised. “Let me know if you need anything. You know where I’ll be.”

“Are you going to go find someone to help you make the smithy? Or did you decide to finish it yourself?”

“Definitely going to ask around for some assistance.” Arwin cleared his throat sheepishly. “I’d like it to withstand more than a light breeze. I’ll just help out where I can to make sure it ends up looking the way I want it to. Aside from that, I’ll just be working on some crafting.”

“Probably smart,” Lillia said. “The same goes for you if you get hungry before dinner. I’ll be in the kitchen testing out some new recipes.”

“I’ll keep that in mind in case I end up actually getting distracted for long enough to remember that I like eating. Otherwise, I’ll look forward to dinner. Good luck cooking.”

“And good luck to you as well,” Lillia said. She stepped back into the kitchen and Arwin walked out of the tavern. He set a course down the street and toward the town square. He wanted to get some more crafting done as soon as he could, but he needed to find someone that could help him rebuild his smithy first.