Yavneck approached the wooden door and heard the sounds of metal banging against metal inside.

He knocked once.

“Oi. Stop what you're doing and let that guy in,” a gruff voice came from behind the door, and immediately, an image of a bearded dwarf frowning in front of an anvil while carrying a hammer came to Yavneck’s mind.

A bit of muffled muttering, a reply from someone inside, then- “What am I training you for then? To just sit around and occasionally blow the fire? Go and open the door!”

The sounds of scrambling echoed within and a few seconds afterward, the door opened to the face of a scraggly boy with brown hair and deeply tanned skin, he raised a sweaty hand to wipe his eyebrow while Yavneck observed him from head to toe- the boy is young, that much is certain, an apprentice as well, he had thick lips, a large nose, and a pair of small eyes; the effects of staying near a burning forge within an enclosed space for far too long.

Ugly, for now, due to the features being present in a small face but over time, these things would get molded around the face and the boy in front of him would look like any stereotypical Dwarf out there, just much taller.

For now, such features would be the butt of Dwarf jokes among his peers and Yavneck could tell from a glance that the boy in front of him- much like all blacksmith apprentices, really, must be why all blacksmiths grow into bitter asses, - would not like being treated like that.

Behind the boy, a large man with the same features and a pot belly stood in front of an anvil, he looked pissed as he stood at the center of the room.

On the anvil is a cylindrical metal rod glowing a molten orange from the heat, which the blacksmith, Cadson, didn't seem to mind or care about even as he stood in front of it, and yes, his face is contorted into a dwarf-like frown, but Yavneck is sure that he was the cause rather than the blistering heat.

Yavneck wiped his brow, he didn’t know how Cadson could work in such an environment when the only thing protecting him from the heat is the leather apron that he around around his neck but even that, Yavneck surmised, wouldn't do much in keeping the heat of the forge away from the man's body.

Chances are, he was most likely just used to it.

Also, oddly enough, the mental image that he had of the man behind the door had been pretty accurate, Cadson really is like a dwarf, as the man sported a long, white beard that hung from his chin, and much like Dwarves, he had large cheeks, log-like arms, and a perpetually angry face.

“So, what do you want?” He asked before his eyes narrowed and he stared at Yavneck intently, realization flashed in his eyes, “Oh. You're that burnt corpse Barow picked up from the river a day ago,”

“As you can see, I am alive and well and not at all a corpse,” Yavneck said with a small smile, “Jesting about death like that would bring the High Goddess of Life down on you, didn't you know?”

“Sure,” Cadson replied dismissively, “now I'm gonna ask again, what are you here for?”

Yavneck had the impression that Cadson would throw him away the moment that he stalled or gave a bad answer so he decided to cut to the chase and said the straightest answer that he could; starting by pulling out the damaged chainmail from his Port and showing it to Cadson, who recognized it immediately.

“You're here to repair that?” He asked.

“Well, it wouldn't be me who would repair it,” Yavneck grinned when the blacksmith’s brows furrowed into wrinkles, “but yes, I would like this thing fixed,” He looked around and then at the boy standing in front of him, “can I walk inside?”

The apprentice looked back and when Cadson gave him an affirmative nod, the boy moved to the side and Yavneck stepped forward, and immediately, the wave of heat washing over him turned worse, the forge whispered a silent threat to cook him alive, “Huh, this must be how food feels all of the time,”

Cadson scoffed, “Of course it’s hot, there's a forge right there,”

“I suppose, that is to be expected yes, how simple minded of me,” Yavneck replied, backing down and lowballing himself, it seems that if he hopes to talk to the blacksmith in even terms, he should stop joking around.

“The chainmail…” Yavneck in truth did not know the price to repair a chainmail inside a Hamlet as small as this one, for all he knew, due to Cadson monopolizing the smithing profession, repairs are overpriced here.

Well, there's no telling if that would be the case so it's best to throw the stone and hope it hits, “So, how much would the repair cost?”

“You have a Port, correct?” Asked Cadson, prompting Yavneck to nod.

The scholar knew that the blacksmith wouldn't ask for a literal Port as payment for something as simple as repairing a chainmail which means that he's asking it more as a status thing, inquiring about Yavneck's financial situation rather than asking about a potential barter- which Yavneck would refuse anyway.

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To confirm Yavneck’s suspicion, Cadson’s next question was about how much money he had, “Well that means you have a lot of money, right?”

“I wouldn't say that I do,” Yavneck smiled. A lie, as he’s certain that he at least has enough funds to live comfortably within a city for a few months.

“Good,” Cadson snorted, “Because I'm not asking for your money, I want you to help Baltan over here collect iron and other metals up the river, you can use your Port for storage if you want,” Cadson said his condition of payment and Yavneck took it for what it is- an opportunity to haggle.

“And, do tell, how much work do I have to do in order to pay for the repair of something like this?” The [Scholar] raised the chainmail and waved it around, the item made little clinking noises as it moved.

“Five days worth of work,” the blacksmith answered.

“No.” Yavneck immediately replied. Did this man seriously think that he was born yesterday? 5 Days' worth of labor for chainmail? Take a leg while he’s at it.

“Then what do you want to give me?” Asked Cadson, tone impatient.

“Well, I am confident that I can certainly help your apprentice over here with iron collecting but-” he said, “I will only bring you five carts worth, one cart for each day, making it five.” He haggled- which sounded reasonable enough, Yavneck didn't have to work for an entire day and Cadson would still get his carts of iron.

Cadson grunted, “You sound like you know what you're doing,” he accused and Yavneck hid a smile.

Well, isn't that interesting? Did the man want something from the place where Baltan is collecting iron?

Better ask, then, “I do believe so, yes, I have learned how to differentiate various rocks thanks to the extra education that I have on account of being an Acolyte of Horos,” Yavneck replied confidently, showing one of his many cards; a past serving as an [Acolyte] of the God of Knowledge.

If he can negotiate for a weapon, or even an upgraded prosthetic, then he might just be able to tell the blacksmith more about his expertise and expertise or even willingly part ways with some of the more valuable items stored within his Port.

“Why?” Yavneck asked to push the conversation forward.

“I want other metals added into the cart,” Cadson replied.

“Fair enough,” Yavneck nodded, “what do you want?”

“I don't just need iron, I want you to grab me tin and gold as well,” Cadson answered.

“Gold?” That’s… interesting, why Gold? Do merchants pass through this Hamlet on occasion? Or does he need it for something else? “Do you want me to sieve?” Yavneck asked.

“Yes.” The blacksmith smiled, “it seems that you do know what you are doing.”

“Can I ask why you want gold?” Yavneck scrutinized Cadson's face, hoping to find a shift in expression that could tell him what kind of motives the man has for asking what can amount to as luxury metal in a small Hamlet like this one- really, Yavneck doubts that Cadson wanted to make a weapon out of it, as Gold is too soft.

“I'd say that it's because the [Shaman] of this place needs it for a ritual,” Cadson answered and Yavneck’s read on him said that the man was being honest, “I'm not gonna say anymore.”

“I see,” Yavneck looked around the shop, thinking- a bit more prying wouldn’t hurt, “how much gold do you need?”

“Just a few small nuggets,” came the answer, “nothing that sieving for a few hours wouldn't get you,”

“Consider the deal done,” Yavneck answered, “but, I want to negotiate,” Cadson grunted, prompting him to continue, “first, I want a gambeson to go with the chainmail,” Cadson nodded, “and second, just a simple thing, well, two things- either you give me an extra item of my choosing or you turn the payment into a 2 cart workload the moment that I give you the handful of gold nuggets.”

“Give me the gold later today and you're done working after two carts, you can also get a gambeson, sure.” Cadson picked the latter of the choices and Yavneck held back a disappointed sigh. Well, at least he got a gambeson and a shortened workload for his efforts.

“Consider the deal done, you’d get your Gold later today,” Yavneck's smile wasn't forced but also disengenuine, “so I'm guessing that since the deal has been made, I'm gonna have to work soon?”

“Not soon,” Cadson smiled before facing Baltan, “now,” the blacksmith jerked his head to the side, “get to working boy, I'm not teaching you a valuable trade just so that you can sit around.” Nodding, the apprentice jogged to the door and left for what Yavneck assumed was the cart where they'd put the iron in. “Take care of him,” said the man as he waved him off.

“Of course,” Yavneck nodded and replied with a smile before turning around and walking out to follow the apprentice blacksmith.

The place where Baltan had gone to wasn't that far, in fact, it was just at the back of the smithy, where a cart and a mule were sitting around, doing nothing. In the mule's case, it grazed on the grass and whipped its tail, looking bored.

“I assume you know the spots where to find iron correct?” Yavneck asked as he walked up to the teenager, “Because if you don't, I'm gonna start thinking that you just go up there and search around, yielding almost nothing for every search.”

“... you're right,” said Baltan softly, “I don’t really know where to find iron and the most that I get is just a small bag,”

How does that work? Yavneck wondered. A small bag of iron?.. What?

Well whatever-

“In that case, I'm gonna have to start asking what you're doing every time you do this task,” The scholar said as he grabbed a pickaxe hanging on the wall of the building and threw it inside of the cart.

“Why do we need that?” Asked Baltan.

“We're searching for iron,” Yavneck pointed out, confused as to how the kid could possibly not know this. Does he just pick small rocks from the ground and call it a day? “And not to mention, even if we're searching for regular rocks, you're gonna have to bring a pickaxe to break them apart so that they can fit into the cart.”

Yavneck added, “if you want to haul around massive rocks, then don’t bring the pickaxe,”

Baltan nodded in response yet stayed silent. “I didn't know that.” He murmured.

“Well, now you do,” Yavneck stopped moving when he stood diagonally to Baltan's right, he was just a step or two at the back, more so because of safety rather than because he wanted to observe what Baltan did. But, if the question comes up of why he positions himself like this, then he'd certainly give out an answer like that.

Yavneck hummed, “Now, how about you give me a step-by-step process of what you do every time you go out and search for iron?”