Need new tools? Talk to the blacksmith!

Caroline's shop was tucked away behind a row of houses. It made sense- a carpenter wasn't exactly something one needed on a day to day basis. Thankfully the town was small enough that even being on the other side from her farm wasn't far.

She soon spied the sign to the shop and ducked inside. Bold, wooden decor filled the shop, and behind the counter sat, well, not Caroline. A young man slouched behind the counter, and sat up as he saw her.

"I'm sorry," she called as she did a double take, poking her head outside to see the shop sign and again to the counter. "I seem to have gotten the wrong shop."

The man beamed at her and ran a hand through his hair. "Looking for Caroline's?"

Izzy nodded. "That's the one. Common mistake, I take it?"

"Sure," he said with a laugh. "As long as by 'mistake' you mean that this is in fact Caroline's."

Izzy raised an eyebrow but let the door close behind her.

The man gestured widely. "Welcome to Caroline's. I'm Brendon, her son."

"That does explain it. I'm Izzy, by the way. Sorry for just then, Caroline just very much seems like," she trailed off, not sure how to word the odd woman's energy to her son.

Brendon nodded, understanding without words. "Like a one-woman show? She generally is. She thought you may stop by, so she had me watch the counter while she went to her exercise club with the ladies." He leaned closer and cocked an eyebrow at her. "Now that I've met you, I'm glad she did."

Izzy stepped back half a step. "Um, thanks." She had wanted to ask about the lady exercise club, but perhaps that could wait for another day. "I do have questions about some of the services your mother referred to and I was wondering if there was any sort of standard pricing, so I could know what to expect?"

Brendon leaned back and grabbed a catalog from beneath the shelf. "If that's what you wish, all your answers are here." He dropped the slim, tattered booklet on the countertop.

Izzy flipped it open and the very first entry drew her attention. Just what she was looking for- home renovation. The listing was strange- a very firm price rather than the range she would expect, and no wording that the suggested the price would change based on the level of work needed.

Looking at the amount of cash she'd need, she couldn't help but laugh- $1,000. Half the cost of the bag at the general shop. Less, significantly less, than she'd feared it would be. She'd also need to provide 40 wood and 10 copper bars. No units were given on how much material qualified as one 'wood' nor in what shape it should be in. A problem for future Izzy.

Izzy felt a little bad at how little actual money it would cost, given the condition of her new home, but the lack of any sort of funds kept her mouth shut. Instead she pointed to the "copper bars" line. "I'm to provide these as well?"

Brendon nodded. "Yup. Shouldn't be much- renovating an already existing structure is lighter on supplies than a whole new building, of course."

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Izzy rubbed at her temples. The headache was returning. "Of course. And I suppose on that note, could you point me to the local- blacksmith? That's who deals with metal, yeah? Can't say I've ever needed one before."

"Metalwork would be Reuel. He's just a few doors down- can't miss him what with the giant anvil outside and all."

"Great, it’s getting pretty late and I'd love to get my errands wrapped up today. Thanks for the help."

"Anytime! And I mean it- feel free to stop by anytime you need a bit of company." He waggled his brows once more.

Izzy smiled weakly, uttered a noncommittal grunt and she hurried out the door.

Outside, the shadows were growing longer. She hoped she could wrap up this wild goose chase before it got too late. Ever the social butterfly, Izzy rarely tired of people. This town was beginning to prove that wasn't a universal rule.

She was only a house or two down the street when a rhythmic tink, tink filled the air. Sure enough a moment later a broad, burly man emerged into view. He was beating a lump of red-hot metal on an anvil. At last- she could check the prices for copper bars and get home. Even the prospect of another day in the eternal battle against the weeds was looking good.

As she approached, she called out a greeting, though the man didn’t seem to hear. She drew closer and waved at him, careful to avoid the embers flying through the air with each strike.

The man saw her and rested his hammer and tongs against the anvil as he turned to her.

She looked between the still-glowing metal and the quenching bucket beside the workstation. None of her business, she supposed. "Hey there, I've got a few questions for you, but don't you need to do something with that? I can wait."

The man looked over at the lump on his anvil and nodded at it before turning back. "It'll keep. Now what can I do you for?"

"Uh, sure. If you say so I guess." She tore her eyes away from what she was sure was not good metalworking practices and back to the man. None of her business. "I came to ask about your prices on copper bars. I need some for a project for Caroline."

"I don't sell bars. You'll need to smelt the ore down yourself."

The man looked serious. Izzy was pretty sure, despite the words coming out of his mouth, he was serious. She tried again, "I'm afraid that's out of my skillset there. You're sure I can't just give you some cash to do it?"

The man roared with laughter. He bent over and literally slapped his knee. "Caroline wasn't kidding, was she? You sure are a funny one."

Izzy bit back her reply and shoved a smile on her face. "That's me all right. So smelting, huh?"

The blacksmith wiped a tear from his eye, leaving a black smudge on his face. "That's right, easy as can be. Just build yourself a furnace like this one here." He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a blue sheet of paper. On it was presumably details on furnace construction. "Once it's done, just pop the ore in there and a bit of fuel. You'll have to wait a bit, but the bars will pop right on out when it’s done."

"Okay, build furnace, turn ore into bars to repair the house. Got it. And I get the ore from you then?"

The man started laughing again. Before he could devolve further, Izzy cut in. "Kidding, of course. Where would I get the ore then?"

The man hooked a thumb towards the foothills that lay beyond the town. "There's an old mine up there, plenty of copper veins still close to the surface. Shouldn't take you any time at all."

"And I can just, go up there and mine? There's no more hoops to jump?"

"That's about the size of it. Mind, in your grandpap's old chest, there should be a sword. You'll want to bring that with you on account of the murder bats."

"Murder bats." It wasn't a question.

"Don't let the name get to you. Swing or two and they'll trouble you no more. What you really need to watch out for is the-"

Izzy waved a hand cutting him off. "I know I'll likely regret not letting you finish later, but I'm tapping out of crazy for the day. All I need to know is just one thing."

"Which is?"

"How do I get to the pub?"