"What's this?"

Asked Amelia as she stared down at the... was it a weapon? Yes, probably a weapon.

What she held in her hand was an extra large smithy hammer or a sledgehammer if she were to go a bit... modern.

"Aye, your mother asked me to give you one. She said you're strong as a bull, well, cow."

Amelia could have sworn that the woman under the Ranger's hood was laughing at her had not been for the expressionless and pale face.

She stared down at the monstrosity in her hands, it was heavy, much heavier than the heaviest of the butcher's knives all put together. The wooden handle though, fit right into her grip. It was mostly bare except for at the bottom where it was wrapped in old leather straps to fashion it after a war hammer. The head was a slab of blackened iron, pitted and scarred in places, which meant it was quite old.

Amelia gritted her teeth, hefting it over her shoulder with some small effort and sighing as it felt right at home there... her mother knew her quite well, too well even.

"Where's Mum?"

She asked, her voice was unconsciously a little tight.

The ranger simply shrugged,

"Gone. At the Ford? Haven't heard from her since yesterday. They said they were fortifying the damn thing but I doubt it."

Amelia nodded, accepting the answer. It had been what? A week since her mother 'decided' to train her before vanished into thin air, barely stopping by much less spending time with her. Haven't heard from her father, either, in over two weeks, he too vanished like smoke.

'What are those two up to now?'

"Well, you should pack up and join the others at the crypt."

Sighed the Ranger before strolling down the road that led to the village, the butcher's hut was some distance away from the more populated area, after all, everyone likes meat but no one likes how it is prepared, not even those from a more... medieval background.

[You have acquired Maul(Junk).]

'That's not nice.'

She placed it down inside the house, on the dining table, and observed it for a moment,

[Crude Maul(Junk)

Made by Apprentice Blacksmith Ragand

The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

Description: A crude pig iron maul made by Ragand the village blacksmith. It is a little heavier and more durable than a blacksmith's hammer.]

"It doesn't say anything about the damage..."

She was kinda curious if the weapons had any specific extra damage varying on quality and condition. But it would seem her guesses were wrong after all,

SWISH

She picked it up in both hands and tried swinging it,

"The balance isn't all that bad,"

Which didn't mean much since it was the first real weapon she had held in her hands,

"Notification."

[Skill Alert!]

|Butchery Skill Level Up*2|

|Novice Blade Mastery Level Up*2|

|Novice Blunt Weapon Mastery Level Up*1|

|Novice Staff Mastery Level Up*1|

[Attribute Alert!]

|STR +2|

|DEX +1|

[Quest Alert*2]

|Job Quest: Butcher's Apprentice*2|

|War Quests: Assist with the war-efforts*1|

"That's disappointing."

It was the result of almost a week's worth of effort which was significantly less than those of the weeks before. The reason was rather simple, no one had time to hunt or rather, they would spend money to buy meat instead of risking their lives on an outing.

The workshop's business has been sluggish as of late and she realized, quite painfully, she couldn't maintain the same level of progress she made from three hours of getting whacked around by her mother. On her own, she swung the damned wooden staff for a quarter of a day every day for a week but got nowhere.

She grabbed a beat-up leather bag and began shoving in anything she could get her hands on - waterskin? No use, they had an old well in the crypt... crappy design but it was there. Medicine? She may have gotten a bit good at using herbs but only those that could barely be substituted for salt and mint. Weapons? Most of them were inside her inventory along with a whole lot of other stuff...

"Right... I have an inventory."

Amelia sighed and shoved in several loaves of leaf-wrapped meat, clothes, coins, and her mother's Butcher's set into the bag. She hinged the workshop, locked the front door, and headed for the village square...

"Almost forgot."

And she turned around to fetch a faggot of wood and some rope,

"Wonder why I would need these anyway?"

It was her third time traveling down to the village square, the third time since she 'arrived' that is... the place was usually quite lively with people going about their work, a short line in front of the baker's shop, a crowd around the fish monger, and a pair of arguing men in front of the blacksmith's gate.

Now though, the usual liveliness had been sucked out of the village. There was a steady stream of women, children, and elderly making their way to the crypt, an old underground grave made in time immemorial. A child had found it while playing around the mill and it had not been closed off for just such a time as this.

Spotting a ranger by the well, Amelia shoved through the crowd to ask him if he had seen her mother. By the time, she reached him, he had just finished a conversation with the miller's wife and was using her to follow the line of villagers.

"What're ye doin' lass? Follow the line."

Amelia sighed, she could never get used to how they all spoke,

"Aye I will, but first tell me if ye have seen ma 'round lately?"

The ranger was a weathered man with a stern expression, which somehow seemed to be the norm for them. He regarded her with squinted eyes for a moment before nodding,

"Hallbera? Aye, I saw her down by the Ford this morning. They are tryin' to loosen the large rocks on the crossing."

'Oh'

Amelia raised an eyebrow at that. At least she knew now where her mother was, safe, for now, that is,

"Thank ye,"

With a grateful nod, she joined the hurrying line of villagers heading for the crypt, no point in protesting, she did come under the 'Civilian Woman' category.