The Witch's Relay

Chapter 30: The Blacksmith's

"So you want to join the expedition hm?" Heather asks me once we walk out of the tavern.

"Yes? Isn't that a given?" I tilt my head.

"No! You're not strong enough! What if you get put in a different team than me, and end up getting yourself killed!?"

"Would that ruin your day?" I ask her with a small smile, not a fake one this time. Are my emotions returning?

"You bet it would! It would ruin my week! All the work I've put into you would be for nothing!"

"Hey." I give her a little glare before switching back the topic. "You heard Linda didn't you? She said I would be a supporter and out of harm's way."

"Dungeons are unpredictable. I won't be surprised if even half of the expedition members are taken out."

I take a step back. "Half!? That's a massive over-exaggeration right!?"

"That number might not be high enough honestly."

"Erm.. That.. And the guild is sending people there, knowing that!?" Can it really be that dangerous?

"Yes of course. Even if we take that many casualties, it will be worth it, as long as we shut the dungeon down. If we don't, a legion of monsters will most likely emerge from it, destroying every settlement in a large area. So in order to protect the innocent human lives of villagers and townsfolk, it has to be stopped at the root."

"Ok.." I guess that makes sense?..

"Can't I make sure to end up being assigned as your supporter?"

She sighs. "I guess."

...

We end up walking towards the smithing shop on the opposite side of town.

"Why are we here?" I ask confused. "Don't you already have a sword?"

"Not for me, for you." She answers in a tone suggesting that it should be obvious.

"But I also have a weapon?"

"It's not optimized for your fighting style or your body type."

"What do you mean?"

"You fight by dashing around a lot. Your sword is technically both too heavy and straight for that."

I look down at the weapon at my waist.

"Then what should it look like? Like your katana?"

"I'm not entirely sure. But the blacksmith should hopefully have some good advice. At least that's what I've heard."

"ok.." Well, I'm not complaining.

...

A bell on the door rings when we enter and a man comes out from the back and stands by the desk.

"Hello there! You fancying a new weapon or armor?" He wipes off some sweat from his forehead with a gray towel which he grabbed from underneath the wooden desk covered in patches of soot.

The man is pretty well-built and wears no shirt, but a substantial leather apron to shield himself from the sparks when he works. His cheeks are flushed red as is the tip of his nose from spending so much time in the forge, his head is shaved bald, most likely for practical reasons, but you can tell it is growing back ever so slightly.

Everything about this man screams blacksmith, from the shadows casted by his bulging arms, to the scars of countless burns formed over the years on them.

"That's right." Heather begins. "We are looking to have a sword custom made."

He looks between Heather and me, and then down to the weapons hung on our belts. "Fur the boy or ye?" I notice him frowning and tilt his head for a moment when he first looks at my face and then at my sword. It can't be that bad can it?

"For the boy."

"Heh! I thought so!" He grins, but honestly that grin is a little terrifying. "Tell me about yurself so I can get an idea fur what I can make ye!"

"Well.." I begin, and then look at him, and then at Heather before looking back at him. "I like to fight slightly more defensive, letting the enemy get close before evading and slashing."

"Hmm.." He puts both his hands on the desk and leans forward, staring in my eyes.

"Sir?.." I start nervously.

He then without warning grabs my upper arm and squeezes it so hard it feels like it'll come off.

"Hey what!?.." I flinch and he lets go, another grin covers his face.

"Yes! That is somethin I can work with! Ye got some strength in ye boy!" He lets off a hearty laugh. "Ye should show that more, ever thought about going shirtless for a while to show off what ye got under ther? I betcha all the girls will flock to ye. Coverin up with that baggy shirt is sucha waste honestly."

"C'mon pa. Don't be like that to the customers, you'll scare them away!" Another sweaty figure walks out from the workshop, dressed in short shorts and a leather tunic which is lacking sleeves. "Hello there! I'm Bree, and this is my father, Burke, who's manners I apologize for. Nice to meetcha!"

"I'm Kade, and this here is Heather. Likewise, nice to make your acquaintance!

"Ye finished with it?" The man, apparently named Burke, turns to his daughter.

"Yep, did the finishing touches and now it's just cooling."

"Great!" He turns back to me. "Can I see yur current weapon?"

Breaking out of my thoughts I exclaim; "of course!" and hand him my unsheathed sword.

"It's not a bad weapon technically. Strong, sharp, and well taken care of. But really this weapon is meant for parrying, not quick slashes." He then turns to Heather and nods at her sword. "Are ye the one who taught him how to fight?"

"That's right." She answers.

Bree leans against the wall, obviously amused. "So I assume ye've taught the way to fight that ye yurself would use?" We all turn to face her.

"I suppose." Heather replies.

"That might make things a bit tricky. But we can still work with that." Burke says, almost as if speaking to himself, but in an excited tone.

"But yur pockets better be deep enough." Bree adds with a glint in her golden green eyes.

"Just name your price." Heather nods and confirms.