Caden and Mira shared their plans for the day and I felt a twinge of envy at their carefree attitudes. However, it was understandable they would simply want to "chill" for at least a day, considering what they had been through over the last few years.

Caden, ever the family man, said he was eager to spend his afternoon with his loved ones, no doubt regaling them with tales of recent adventures. He seemed particularly keen to catch up with his brother Alic, probably to see if his newfound position as captain of the guard had gone to his head. I couldn't help but smirk, remembering Caden's concerns about Alic's ego.

Mira, on the other hand, had a more indulgent day in mind. She spoke of visiting the village hot springs. I could almost picture her lounging in the warm, mineral-rich waters, a cup of wine in hand, as she gazed up at the endless sky.

For a moment, I was tempted to ask if I could join her, but the memory of our almost-tryst and the awkwardness that had followed held me back. Besides, I had my own demons to wrestle with, particularly regarding a certain medallion I could not remove under any circumstance. Revealing myself in the guise of the recently defeated Dark Lord Morthisal at a hot spring sounded like a surefire way to quickly lose my head.

I decided to explore Everspring a bit more. As much as I appreciated Caden's family's hospitality, I didn't want to overstay my welcome.

Wandering the streets, I took in the sights and sounds of the village. The cobblestone roads were bustling with activity, and the air was filled with the chatter of people going about their day.

I ended up in a different part of Everspring, a quaint neighborhood with a charming, old-world feel. The streets were lined with colorful shops. The scent of freshly baked bread wafted from a nearby bakery. It mingled nicely with the fragrance of blooming flowers from a florist's shop. I passed by a tailor with hand-stitched clothing on display. Children darted through the streets, laughing and playing games while their parents called out to them to be careful. An elderly couple sat on a bench outside their home, sharing a pot of something hot and steaming.

As I turned a corner, I stumbled upon an open-air market. Stalls were filled with fresh produce, handcrafted goods, and exotic spices. Merchants called out their wares, attracting customers with deals and friendly banter.

I stopped at one of the stalls. They had fresh fruit and bags of nuts on display. The woman smiled as I approached.

"Good morning," she said brightly.

"It truly is," I said and couldn't help but smile back. "I'm new here. Do you know where I can find, er…coffee?"

The vendor smiled warmly and pointed down the street. "If it's coffee you're looking for, you'll want to visit The Whistling Kettle. They have a wide selection of teas and fresh coffee. Just a few doors down on the left, you can't miss it."

Coffee? Here? I profusely thanked the vendor and hurried down the street, scanning the storefronts until I spotted the hanging sign for The Whistling Kettle.

As I pushed open the door, a small bell chimed. The shop was cozy and inviting, with shelves lined with various teas and coffee beans. Yes! Coffee beans! It was a struggle to keep my mouth from dropping open. Behind the counter stood a young man, no more than sixteen, with a bored expression on his face. I thought of every coffee shop in Seattle. This kid would have been working behind the counter with a phone glued to his face. But here, in this medieval world, he simply stared at me with a hint of mild annoyance.

"Welcome to The Whistling Kettle," he said, his tone flat. "What can I get for you?"

"I heard you have coffee," I replied eagerly, trying to contain my excitement.

The young man shook his head slightly. "Yeah. Um. I mean. Yes, sir. We have coffee. One cup?"

"That's the ticket," I said, nodding.

He shrugged and grabbed a well-worn, handmade ceramic mug from a shelf.

"Having a good day?" I asked. "I'm Varix. I'm kind of new in Everspring."

"It's okay," he said and opened a small wooden box filled with coarse ground coffee. To my surprise, he scooped a large pile directly into the mug—no filter, no fancy brewing methods. He then reached for a kettle simmering on a small stove behind the counter and poured the hot water over the grounds.

"That'll be two coppers," he said, sliding the mug across the counter.

"Crunchy coffee. Yum," I said and dug into my pockets, fishing out the coins and handing them over. Looking down at the mug, I couldn't help but feel a little miffed at the crude brewing method.

"Got something I can stir this with?" I asked as I eyed the floating grounds.

The boy sighed and dug around behind the counter. He produced a metal hand-hammered spoon. I stirred the grounds into the water and tried to press as many of them down as possible.

There were a couple of chairs near a counter that looked out on the street. I sat down and blew on the brew in the mug, chasing some of the cracked beans into the water.

I was a little worried this was going to taste terrible.

It didn't. It so didn't.

The beans had been blasted by the fires of a thousand suns. It was so dark! The flavor was rich and bitter. I wondered about sugar but decided not to press my luck. It might not be the artisanal brew I was accustomed to, but it was coffee, nonetheless.

I sat back in the chair and observed the comings and goings of Everspring's residents. People bustled past, nodding at each other, and more than one smiled at me.

As I sat, I contemplated how I was going to present my plan to Roland Hightown. If he really had the money, I was going to have to blow his socks off. To do that, I was going to need a number of items. I made a mental checklist and then a note to myself to get some paper and a writing instrument so I could take actual notes.

Two children in their finery raced to the building and touched the wall simultaneously. The boy and girl appeared to be siblings. She had a mess of blonde hair that might have hidden a bird. His was more stylish, if you’re into bowl cuts.

“I was first!” the boy yelled.

“No. I was first!”

The pair yelled at each other until the sister pointed to the end of the street. The boy nodded. She then kicked him in the shin and raced off while laughing.

I stifled a chuckle, polished off my coffee, and spit coarse grounds back into the mug. On my way out, I stopped at the counter and slid a pair of coppers across the well-worn wood surface.

"Another?" the kid asked.

"A tip. Thanks for your help today."

He stared at the coins. Oops! I'd done it out of muscle memory more than anything else.

He picked up the coins and did something I didn't think possible. He smiled.

"Really?"

"Yep. Have a nice day."

"You, uh…you, too!"

"See you tomorrow."

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

The kid stared at the copper coins and slid them into a pocket.

As I picked more coffee grounds out of my teeth, I set out to do a little more exploring. I hadn't had coffee in a few weeks, and it hit me like a truck. I smiled as caffeine woke my butt up and made me want to climb a few walls.

As I turned a corner, I spotted a familiar face. Doan was working with a group of others, rebuilding the wall of a large building. As I drew closer I saw the hanging sign: Hammer & Hearth Blacksmith.

"Hey, Doan!" I called out. "How are you?"

"Varix, my friend!" Doan looked up, wiping sweat from his brow.

"I see you didn't waste any time finding something to do," I said with a grin.

"I apprenticed here before I joined the war. Now I'm back and eager to finish my training."

"A blacksmith? That suits you. I can picture you yelling at material fresh out of the fire to form itself and the red-hot metal following your orders out of fear."

Doan threw his head back and roared with laughter.

"I'm not really doing anything today," I remarked impulsively once Doan regained his composure. "Do you need an extra pair of hands?"

Doan smiled. "Sure, we could use the help. Ever done any building before?"

"A little." I chuckled but didn't tell him I'd once built a Malm four-drawer dresser from IKEA, which had only taken six days.

Doan raised an eyebrow. "We'd be happy to have the help. I'll show you the ropes."

For the next few hours, I worked alongside Doan and the other villagers, the sun beating down on our backs as we labored. Despite my initial clumsiness, born of years of staring at computers and pushing data onto spreadsheets, I started to get the hang of it.

Doan patiently showed me how to place each board, his gruff voice guiding my clumsy hands. He demonstrated the proper angle to hold a nail and the sure swing needed to drive it home. When I inevitably smashed my thumb, stifling curses that would have made a sailor blush, he simply chuckled and told me it happened to everyone. Bit by bit, I improved, and the work became a soothing rhythm.

As we labored, I told Doan of my plans to open a tavern. I mentioned that I had been looking for a money lender to exchange some of the coins we'd collected from the orcs.

"I'll go with you when you're ready," Doan said. "Make sure no one takes advantage of you."

"That's really nice, Doan. Thanks, pal."

"I'm happy to do it. You're not half bad at construction, and you're a quick study," Doan said, grinning. "Maybe you missed your calling as a builder."

I laughed. "I think I'll stick to cooking, thanks. But this is fun!"

As we worked, I chatted with the other villagers. There was an older man named Guslan with a few wisps of white hair clinging to his forehead for dear life. Gus entertained us with outrageous stories from his youth, and Lillian, a quick-witted woman who seemed to have a witty comeback for everything, kept Guslan in check.

"So, Varix," Lillian said as we took a break, "I hear you're planning to open a tavern. Got any special drinks in mind?"

I grinned. "Oh, course. I plan to make some drinks to knock your socks off."

"Socks?" Old Man Guslan chimed in. "Why would we want our socks knocked off? It sounds painful if you ask me!"

The group burst into laughter.

"It's just an expression. Once my tavern's doors are open, feel free to leave your socks on."

"I'll do that," Guslan said, slipping his shoes off to expose a gray woolen sock with a few holes in the bottom. He wiggled his toes, which set off another round of laughter.

Once we were done rebuilding the blacksmith's north wall, I felt a sense of accomplishment I hadn't felt in a long time. A pile of charred boards had been replaced with fresh wood. This sure beat the hell out of staring at spreadsheets all day.

As Doan and I finished up our work on the blacksmith's wall, he turned to me with a smile. "Hey Varix, want a quick tour of the forge? I can show you around, give you a glimpse of where the magic happens."

"Sure, that sounds great!" I replied enthusiastically, wiping the sweat from my brow.

Doan led me inside the blacksmith's shop, and I was immediately struck by the heat emanating from the forge. The room was dimly lit, the flickering flames from the hearth casting shadows on the walls. In the center of the room stood a large anvil. Its surface was pitted and worn. Hammers of various sizes hung on the wall.

"This is where we heat the metal," Doan explained, gesturing to the forge. "We use bellows to pump air into the fire, getting it hot enough to make the metal malleable." He pointed to a large leather bellows on the side of the forge. Next, he showed me the quenching tub, a large barrel filled with water or oil used to cool the metal after shaping it. "And over here," he said, moving to a workbench, "is where we do the finer work - grinding, polishing, adding details to the pieces."

A butcher's knife sat on the table. "Can I?"

"Be my guest," Doan said.

I picked up the blade and marveled at the heft. It was well-balanced. I touched the edge and found it razor-sharp. "This is beautiful work, my friend."

"Thanks, Varix. I couldn't wait to get back to smithing, and this was one of the first things I made. Wanted to see how rusty my skills were."

"This is astonishing work."

As I looked around, I couldn't help but be impressed by the array of tools and equipment. He grinned broadly and touched a few tool handles. "I've missed this."

"You look like you're at home."

"Oh, I am. Just as you will be when you acquire your tavern," Doan said.

"If I can make it happen," I leaned against the wall and crossed my arms. "Honestly, it's proving to be a challenge. Even with Caden and Mira backing me, it feels so daunting."

"What's that? Mira and Caden are helping out?"

"They are. They both kicked in two hundred gold each."

Doan pursed his lips.

"Oh, hey. Sorry, I wasn't implying I wanted a loan. I'm just here to help and enjoy your company." A thought occurred. "Although," I grinned. "If you did want to get in on the ground floor, er, that's an old saying. If you want to help, I can tell you they will be repaid with interest. It's called profit sharing."

"I see."

"No pressure."

Doan stroked his chin. "It's something to consider."

A powerfully built woman strode into the blacksmith shop, her presence commanding attention. I straightened up and offered a friendly greeting. "Hello there!"

She looked at me, her expression gruff but not unkind. "Hello," she replied with a nod.

Doan stepped forward, a smile on his face. "Varix, this is Ragna. She owns the Hammer & Hearth."

"A pleasure to meet you, Ragna," I said, extending my hand.

Ragna took it in a firm grip that threatened to crack my fingers. "Likewise," she turned to Doan. “I overheard you two talking about an investment. What's this all about, then?"

I gulped, realizing I had been put on the spot, but I knew this was an opportunity I couldn't pass up. "Well, Ragna, I plan to purchase a tavern here in Everspring. A couple of my other friends have expressed interest in investing."

She turned to Doan. "This the one that cooked for you on the road?"

"One and the same."

Ragna raised an eyebrow as she turned back to me. "Go on."

I could already tell Ragna would be a tough sell and might talk Doan out of a potential investment. Thinking on my feet, I took a deep breath. "If Doan chooses to invest, he will be paid back and earn a portion of the profits as an early investor. Additionally, I'd like to offer a sponsorship to Hammer & Hearth."

Doan looked at me, puzzled. "What's a sponsorship?"

"It's a form of advertising," I explained. "I'll have flyers. I mean, uh, a sign?" I hesitated, unsure if tapestries were a thing here. "Yeah, a sign in the tavern will mention Hammer & Hearth as our exclusive blacksmith. We can even verify all of my metal needs will come exclusively from your shop. If I open more locations in the village, that won't change."

Ragna grunted, seeming to mull it over. Then, to my surprise, she nodded. "Alright. Sounds fair."

"I agree." Doan grinned broadly. "Sounds more than fair."

Ragna addressed Doan. "We can invest no more than two hundred gold. The contact will mention what you called sponsorship, as well as our share of the profits."

"Done." I nodded once.

"Done," Doan added.

She turned to Doan, her tone shifting. "Hurry up and clean up your tools from outside, boy."

Doan cast his eyes down and nodded, but he also had a little smile on his face. I was a little shocked. I would have never imagined anyone addressing Big Doan like a little boy.

"Thank you, Ragna. You won't regret this."

"It remains to be seen," she said, turning to leave. "But I have a good feeling about you."

After Ragna left, I said, "Wow, Doan. I can't thank you and her enough."

"Not to worry. My mother is a shrewd businesswoman."

I blinked, taken aback, and stifled laughter. "Wait, Ragna, is your mother?"

Doan chuckled at my surprise. "Yeah, she is. She's tough, but always fair." There was pride in his voice.

I shook my head, a grin spreading across my face. "Well, that explains a lot," I said.

"Come on. Help me put away my tools, and I'll take you to meet Quibble. Let's see where you're at with your funds.”

I clapped my hands together and said, "Thanks, my friend."

I now had almost half the funds I would need to purchase The Shadow's Respite. It was looking more and more like the more expensive tavern was simply out of the question.

I still had to come up with enough to cover the rest of the cost. I'm sure the coins would bring in some money, but it was unlikely to be enough.

There might be a solution that would keep others like Roland the Estate Steward out of the picture—and that solution could lay in the bottom of my backpack, thanks to the gems I had taken from Morthisal's treasury. All I had to do was find a buyer for the gems and not arouse suspicion. Oh, and come up with a story as to where they came from.