The day seemed to have flown by, one minute I was drafting Ha-Na's outfit, the next she was trying on the pattern pieces and offering feedback, and then it was suddenly late and she had to go. She warned me her group would be travelling into town and she'd be unavailable to check the fitting for a few days, but when I woke to the sound of wind and rain battering against the walls and roof, each gust eliciting an ominous creaking of wood, I dared to hope her plans might have been delayed. Breakfast in the overcrowded tavern dashed that hope. While it seemed like almost every other adventurer was packed in there either drenched or drying, Eimer confirmed Ha-Na's party had left early despite the storm.

While I could work a little more on the pattern, there wasn't much left to change without someone to test the fitting. I'd need to order the leather soon since that would take some time to be tanned and delivered. Given the intention to stain it black and that I'd put off making the qi restoration pills, I figured I should work on alchemy for the day.

No sooner had I resolved what I was doing and moved to leave the uncomfortably crowded room than a particularly powerful gust burst a shutter open. Several adventurers swiftly pressed the shutter closed but the latch was splinters. Awkwardly gathering a few quick measurements past the adventurers determined to keep out the cold and wet, I promised to return swiftly with a temporary fix. The carpenters working on building the outpost could do a better job being more specialised, and none would deny Eimer if she asked, but everyone involved in the building work was busy making sure everything was tied down outside. My fix was quick and dirty, a small plank of wood, that didn't quite match the rest (but was pretty close considering my haste), nailed across the shutters. Given how the shutters were creaking as the adventurers pressed against them, I didn't reckon they were surviving this particular storm anyway, so I prioritised reinforcement over aesthetics. A quick glance around at the other shuddering shutters, many of which were now supported by adventurers, had me running back to the storeroom. A few offcuts and some frantic sawing later and wedges were placed in the shutters to hold them firmer. Now I just had to hope the hinges were stronger than the latches.

Buoyed by a few words of thanks I made my way to the workshop, ready to start on alchemy. I pulled out an alembic ready to boil down some qi rich liquids into powders only for someone in a dented helmet to clatter in. His voice was distorted by the full head helm, and given the large dent was by his jaw it may also have been dislocated. Thankfully he was followed by another adventurer who managed to shout over the first’s panicked din and ask for my help to remove the helm.

Once I got a proper look at the issue I saw the problem, though the man's seeming inability to sit still and the bit of blood pouring from within didn't help matters. A few precise blows from my hammer eventually adjusted the warped metal enough to slip his head free, but his understandable claustrophobia when trapped within made it an arduous process. In the end his friend had to hold the panicking man still for the strikes lest I make things worse. They rushed away for Argat's ministrations before I found out how it happened, not that I blamed them. Sighing at the dented and bloody helm in my hand I took a little time to hammer out the worst of the warp and clean and polish the thing. I wasn't sure he'd be wearing a full helm again, but there was no sense in leaving a job half done.

I'd just begun to pick up the recipe for the qi restoration pills to remind myself what the first steps were when Sarala appeared in the doorway asking if I could cover the front desk for a few minutes. Of course I complied, though I took the recipe with me hopeful I'd get a chance to look it over. She gave me a few quick instructions about where things were and what to expect before heading up the stairs with a group that looked like they'd been dragged through a swamp.

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The main hall was almost as busy as the tavern, filled with adventurers nominally considering quests, but mostly just loitering somewhere warm and dry. Xia prowled along the countertop with her head held high as if inspecting troops. I of course made the most of the opportunity to give her a few good pets which seemed to soothe her somewhat.

I didn't have to interact much, but so many people chatting nearby who could come to the counter was quite the distraction from the recipe. I did get the chance to sell some of my healing potions, the first to a half elf who figured he might as well take the opportunity to stock up, and then another two to a party following his example. The sudden depletion of over half the potions I'd made was a stark reminder of how much I needed to step up production. Glancing around the packed hall full of grumbling adventurers I wondered if I could ever make enough. Though the challenge was more invigorating than concerning. The guild wasn’t normally so busy, but then typically adventurers passed through quickly rather than loitering within. I was surprised more people weren’t escaping the weather by delving the dungeon, but I figured they must have their reasons. No doubt Sarala could clue me in if I asked when she returned.

Handling the money and recording the transactions was an experience. I now knew broadly how imperials worked and the relative value of each, but my inexperience, or at least lack of remembered experience handling them, made both transactions take significantly longer than they should have. Not that my double checking I'd properly recorded them in the appropriate ledger helped. I got the feeling I didn't much like handling money, particularly when it wasn't my own. There was a sense of responsibility and a fear of messing up, even when logically I knew everything was fine, that just felt uncomfortable. Sarala had suggested previously that eventually the guild should get a separate storefront for my wares as it continued to grow, and I agreed with her. But even this brief bout of selling made me confident I did not want to be handling the shopfront, even disregarding the fact it would take me away from my workshop.

Before Sarala returned, one of Eimer's sons came running to ask for my help with a recently returned wagon. Just as I was wondering whether to ask him to man the counter, the guildmaster appeared and took over the role so I'd be free to assist. With a sense of urgency, I jogged to the stables. The wagon itself looked remarkably intact, but extremely muddy and the cargo being unloaded was completely sodden. Kete finished a conversation with a drenched teamster who had a mug of something warm shoved into his hands by Eimer as she dragged him off towards the tavern.

Figuring Kete was as good a place to start as any, I made my way over and asked, "So what are we lookin' at? Crazy to drive a wagon in this weather but it seems to have held up well considering. I assume he took the cover down?"

"Aye, he knows his business. He runs on contract with the guild once a day back and forth to the town pickin' up any orders we need. Not that I'da blamed him for holdin' te see if things cleared up a bit today, but I guess he didn't wanna risk losin' the contract. The cargo's boxed and wrapped well enough that with his skills it should be fine, stuff for adventurers has to be hardy after all. The real problem is one of his horses threw a shoe. A soldier based here was a farrier, and normally he'd handle it. But today of all days, he's sick. So, we're the next best thing. If I can keep it calm, think you can handle the shoeing?"

"I got no idea. I think I saw a couple horseshoes in the forge, so I guess I might have done it in the past? Let me get it one in my hands and see if it comes to me."

"I'll do better than that, we're moving the horse to the military stables, it's got the necessary gear for shoeing."

I looked out the large entryway at the driving rain and sighed.

Kete laughed, "Come on lad, a little rain never hurt anyone!"