12 – In the forge

  Elanil was simply taken aback by Nura’s suggestion to turn into the Founding Mothers of a Guild. Just recently she called the whole guild concept plain stupid, and now she switched her opinion in the opposite direction. What logical chain of reasoning led her there? Or perhaps it was just a whim? Elanil couldn’t tell. After all, she’d only known Nura for two days, so she couldn’t understand what was going on in her mind.

  “What do you mean, start a guild?”

  “Exactly what it sounds like—to begin our own guild of amulet-bearers.”

  “Don’t you think you’re too fickle in your intentions?” Elanil remarked cautiously. “Weren’t you telling me just minutes ago it was all nonsense?”

  “I don’t think so anymore. In this world, you have to adapt quickly,” Nura shrugged, as if she again stated obvious things which Elanil for some reason could not grasp. “True, at first this whole guild thing seemed stupid to me. But after thinking about it for a while… You said yourself that guilds help folks group together based on their interests and shared experience. Our interest is to find the other three amulet bearers.”

  “I’m not sure it’s necessary to build a guild for this purpose—”

  “Look, when all five of us get together, it’s not just for a cup of tea, don’t you think? We clearly have something important coming up. I bet it’s no less than to save the world!”

  Elanil was both amused and touched by the way Nura’s outlook on life. Listening to her, everything was as easy as pie: build a guild, gather the good guys, and kick the bad guys’ asses. The end. And everyone lived happily ever after. To be honest, there was a certain childish charm to it all. But enthusiasm and zeal alone were not enough.

  “Creating a guild isn’t like drinking a glass of water,” Elanil noted. One of them had to be the adult, she reasoned. “You need to figure out a lot upfront, like where and how to organize, have some endowment for your activities, and basically understand what it’s like to run a company of heroes. While it’s just you and me, dealing with this is easy. But when only the slightest hint of a hierarchy appears... Oh boy!”

  “You mean, we’re not so smart enough to figure it out?”

  “I didn’t say that. I mean we’re just unexperienced in these matters. And broke.”

  “So what’s the problem?” Nura’s voice rang cheerfully. “Let’s find one and join. You mentioned they offer more interesting quests with better rewards. We will grow our starting capital that way.”

  “Many guilds require an entry fee.” It dawned on Elanil that she sounded like someone simply looking for an excuse not to join a guild. This observation amused her.

  “Then we’ll earn somewhere somehow.” For Nura, this was another mere trifle. “Speaking of which...” She pointed to the sign above the entrance, an anvil and a hammer.

  Elanil was so engrossed in their conversation that she didn’t even notice they’d reached the forge. From within, the rhythmic clang of a hammer striking an anvil echoed. The owner was at his workstation, then.

  The blacksmith looked up from his work to check who had come. He seemed to have immediately recognized that these two women were clearly not locals: dressed in field attire, with weapons at their disposal, the elf and the orc came from afar. After exchanging a few words with his apprentice, he walked around the anvil towards the visitors and greeted them.

  “Good afternoon, how may I be of service, esteemed…” He hesitated, wondering whether to call them Heroes, Adventurers, or something else. He’d once had the misfortune of calling a Paladin an Adventurer, and nearly suffered a couple of broken bones, as the impulsive warrior of the Fourteenth Silver status was offended by being compared to some paltry Adventurer.

  The blacksmith’s gaze swept over their clothing, searching for a badge of a guild affiliation. Not finding anything, he became even more nervous. “Esteemed…” he repeated, sweat on his forehead.

  “Eleanor from Rosemary’s recommended you to us,” Elanil thought it would be less stressful for the blacksmith to know they came on the recommendation of his friend. She also figured that since she possessed higher charisma than Nura, it might be better for her to do the bargaining.

  “Ah, Eleanor,” the blacksmith smiled and relaxed, hearing the strangers mention a familiar name. “How’s she doing? Is the beer still foamy and tasty? I hope she’s getting plenty of customers?”

  This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  “Yes, she’s doing well,” Elanil nodded. “Here’s the thing, we had a successful hunt recently, and we thought we might interest you in what we managed to catch.”

  “I’d be happy to take a look. Perhaps there’s something I might be interested in.”

  Elanil pulled out the bombardier elytra plates and six glowing construct hemispheres from her inventory. They instantly appeared on the blacksmith’s counter, moved there once the sale and purchase talks began. It looked as if Elanil had conjured them out of thin air, like a magician pulling a rabbit out of a hat. Yet, it seemed she was the only one surprised; Nura and the blacksmith didn’t pay it any mind, as if it were a matter of course. What was it that Nura had called the inventory earlier, a magic pocket?

  “Well…” the blacksmith sighed, scratching his head. “I must admit, it’s not very impressive loot… So, how about I give you 10 bronze coins for all this?”

  Apparently, the blacksmith grew bolder when he realised these weren’t some formidable warriors or heroes before him, but guildless or even outcast hunters, for some reason prowling the forests in search of beetles and constructs.

  “Your magic pocket will be lighter,” he said. “And you won’t have to lug all this junk around, and sooner or later I’ll find some use for some of it. So, what do you think?”

  10 bronze coins? Elanil certainly hadn’t been expecting such a meagre offer. Although, to be honest, she didn’t yet fully evaluate how mundane their bag truly was. After all, the most valuable thing—the runes—had already been extracted from the constructs. To find those was as lucky as to catch three salmons, each of them full of caviar. And on the very first day of her adventures in this world!

  Elanil glanced at Nura. The orc shrugged, as if to say, ‘It’s up to you, I don’t care.’

  Elanil was about to shake the blacksmith’s outstretched hand, thus concluding the bargain, when a voice came from behind her.

  “Rowan, Rowan, Rowan, tsk tsk tsk... Why are you duping them into accepting such a ridiculous price, right in broad daylight? You know perfectly well that just one half of the construct’s shell is worth at least 5 silver.”

  Elanil and Nura turned toward the voice. The bard they’d met last night stood in the forge’s doorway.

  “A good day to you, too, Gaspard,” the blacksmith smiled at the bard, but his tone betrayed his barely concealed irritation. “What brings you here?”

  “Just looking for nice horseshoes for my pony.” Gaspard strolled over to them, his hands behind his back.

  “What are you talking about? You don’t have a horse,” the blacksmith grumbled.

  “Today I don’t—tomorrow I might. You never know,” Gaspard said mockingly, eyeing the forge from the ceiling to the walls, as if on a tour. “I reckon I need to take a more thorough approach, looking at the bridle, harness, horseshoes—”

  “Don’t fool me,” Rowan frowned.

  “Don’t fool them.” Gaspard’s gaze stopped wandering around the forge and fixed on its owner, causing him to flinch slightly. “Either pay 30 silver for the shells or keep your greedy little hands off their wares.”

  “Even if they were worth a fortune each,” Rowan recovered and counterattacked, his business acumen prevailing over his initial confusion that Gaspard had ruined his deal. “What good are these shells to me, huh? You know I can’t melt them with the heat of a regular forge. And I don’t have anything special to saw them with—I don’t want to ruin the tools. What should I do with the shells except eating soup out of them?”

  “But you still wanted to buy them,” Gaspard reasonably remarked. “Most likely to resell to the wandering merchants from Eastern Approach, right? So, stop beating about the bush and take them already. And by the way, here’s a free tip: you don’t need to saw and melt them. Their shape is suitable for the base of a helmet for a small sized head. Or,” Gaspard glanced at Elanil and Nura and turned back to the blacksmith, “they could become the upper part of armor for at least three female warriors. Your imagination is the only limit.”

  “Fine,” Rowan grumbled. “You win. 30 silver for shells and 4 bronze coins for the elytra.” He extended his hand to Gaspard.

  “Not for me, not for me, she’s the seller.” He stepped back and pointed at Elanil. She glanced at the bard and hesitantly shook the blacksmith’s hand.

  +30 Silver and 4 bronze coins

  The blacksmith cleared his purchases from the counter.

  “What the heck brought you to my forge?” he couldn’t help but grumble, casting an angry glance at Gaspard.

  “Oh, don’t get so sulky,” the bard laughed. “Look how sunny it is today!”

  Elanil thought the blacksmith was probably in no mood to answer any questions about how things were going in Beechville, even though Gaspard didn’t do anything illegal. It was the blacksmith who wanted to buy up their inventory for next to nothing. However, Elanil wasn’t surprised by his greed; neither Nura nor she had the reputation or charisma to be looked upon favorably by merchants. And if not for the bard’s unexpected help...

  “What need has he in helping us?” Elanil thought, casting a brief glance at Gaspard, who whistled a tune serenely as they emerged from the forge’s shadows onto the broad light. “And his appearance was suspiciously timely. Was he following us?” Then she thought that perhaps it was he who caused her to feel of uneasy earlier that day. What if this bard spied on them all the way from Rosemary’s? Maybe it was him, or maybe she was just paranoid, she concluded.

  “Thank you for helping us sell our goods for a good price,” she said when they were back on the road walking leisurely towards the center of the village. The forge stood at its outskirts—behind was only forest, ahead were rows of houses, more closely packed than those near Rosemary’s.

  “Ah, it was nothing.” He waved his hand dismissively, as if brushing away a pesky fly.

  “Why did you do that?” Nura voiced sternly what was also on Elanil’s mind, but she hadn’t yet brought herself to ask. “Did you follow us from the inn?”

  “Me?” Gaspard’s eyes widened in mock surprise. “Why would I do that?”

  “That’s what I’m asking, why?” Nura’s gaze bored into him.

  “Fine,” he sighed and continued in a muffled voice. “You have something I need.”