Allan, surprised by a task from Thomas, considered why he wanted to send a letter through him. It could only be for convenience, but he wasn’t sure.
“It is a few streets away, close to a lesser shop street where I can get my groceries.” Allan thought, so he decided that he would take on this task.
He looked at Thomas and said. “1 silver.”
Thomas looked at Allan, unsure. But he was forgetful about the money all the time. “Here, take 5.” He tossed a coin to Allan where was a number 5 on it.
Currency was made into two categories. Gold with silver and copper on the side. Copper and silver coins were further divided into 1, 5, 10, 20, and 50 coins. Two 50 copper coins were worth 1 silver. Their thinness and size determined their value. For further simplicity, the coins have a number on each side.
Gold coins are different. They are worth much more and their value is a maxim of higher trading companies. The numbers and worth of the gold coins differ, and many numbers are attached to them. From 50 to almost 10000 gold worth a coin. This system was used since time immemorial. Even more shocking, is the fact, that it is used by all nations on the continent. That's how insane of a value, such a steady flow of economy is the gold.
Of course, there were occasional tribes from the north which used barter and traded with various materials. There was generally no way to stop this spontaneous actions of barter, which was popular almost anywhere. In a sense, even merchant groups were still doing business in this way because of the materials they had and wanted.
No government or kingdom's rules could stop this in any way. As long as the economy was fine, they did not bother with this.
“Thank you, mister Thomas. I will go there immediately.” Having his lunch provided by Berg was a great addition. He should not have to worry about the meal for today.
Covering his head with the hood, he walked away from the pub. Heavy rain was hitting the street. Wind tossing around surrounding trees.
“It got worse, huh?”
A surprising amount of people were walking on the street. Covering their faces were hoods and cloaks, which protected them. They were used to such weather and not everyone had time to spare.
Allan walked on, reaching his destination of few blocks away. On a road below an empty penthouse, there was a chair with a table. It indicated a seating area for the restaurant, but it was empty. So, he decided to have a quick lunch. Eating his fill of meat, sandwiches, and even rice, which Berg gave him.
“How nice! Rice is expensive to buy. It is from far south, but it never ceases to amaze me.” Allan marveled in satisfaction.
He had another thing to consider. Should he look at the letter or not? Considering the letter from his father. Allan, with the additional one from Thomas, had no idea what it was about.
“Screw it! There is even delivery to Burne’s shop. That is not coincidental.” Allan made up his mind, reaching into his bag and taking out the letter.
He tried to open it. Allan grunted by sheer force, but he couldn’t open it at all.
“What in the world is this?” Did he seal it together? Allan wondered, as he tried to rip it open.
“Forget it.”
After a while, Allan walked to a building on 26th street. Taking his hood off. This was a shop building where inside, shops could be opened in every weather condition. They had closed doors and windows with shelve of goods. It had several floors and secret underground floors with shops and workshops.
Allan was walking through the hall, with occasional glances at windows. Goods or whatnot were displayed there. Soon, he reached stairs beyond an unassuming corner that went down.
Allan did not once stop walking, as he was familiar with this place. At the end of the stairs was the gate. A man was standing there behind a stall. He was in charge of deals that were made behind the gate.
This was not the sort of a black market that Allan heard about from his father. No. It was only a business practice where they made groups of shops into a single location. It was an easier and more recognizable course of action for bettering their profits. This man was an employee of this group which was in charge and possession of this place.
The man glanced at approaching Allan. “What can I do for you, Allan?” He smiled at him. He was in his mid-30s and had a sharp look. Allan met him a few times. He visited here with his father who made some purchases for his shop here.
“You remember me?” He asked the man.
“Of course. I must remember everyone. Your father visited yesterday. Is something wrong?”
“I have a letter for mister Burn.”
“From?”
“Mister Thomas inquired me about the delivery. He is still working.” The man glared at him. Not knowing the reason for it. He usually had messengers in charge of information and letters. “Alright. Do you want to deliver it yourself or I can do it for you?”
“I will do it by myself.” Answered Allan.
Man no longer paid much attention to this boy, and with a smile pulled the knob, and opened the gate.
Gate opened with his expert grip and Allan walked inside.
Inside, he looked at a similar hall from above. A shopping mall, with more special and expensive goods. He wanted to deliver the letter by himself for his own curiosity. Walking on, shops were scattered on all sides of the hallway. Some open and others closed. On a wall above a particular door was a sign. Medical shop of 100 Burns.
Walking through the door, an old man who placed bottles on a shelf greeted Allan. “Good day to you Allan. Clayton is not with you? What can I do for you?” He said in a hoarse, aged voice. He wore a green light robe and a face of kindness.
“Hello mister Burn, I came to deliver a letter to you. It came from Thomas from the Lonely Tiger pub, who got a letter from my father.” Allan said in honesty and gave him a letter. Looking at him, he tried to notice any sort of reaction from him.
Mister Burn accepted a letter with a curious expression, then walked to the back of his shop. He returned after a few minutes with an open letter in his hand. Glancing at Allan. “Thank you for delivering me this. You can go away now.”
“Is everything alright?” Asked Allan, in a worry about having no further clues.
“Yes. Yes, why it should be not?” Burn muttered.
Allan gave him a last glance and left. He expected another letter but was shooed away like this. How disappointing to not be a postman.
Dozens of kilometers away, shores of the Windy Sea.
A storm was raging here, like in the city of Waan. Waves stormed the rocky shores in fierce fashion.
In the cloudy fog, silhouettes of ships could be seen approaching the shores. Shrouded around the fog, they were hardly seen from the coast. Coming from the northern shores, they cleaved past the waves with their robust bodies.
The ships cleaved their way forwards to the closest distance to the nearest position to drop the anchor. Dozens of incredible ships made their appearance from the fog after. A pair of at least 3 times larger ships appeared after them from the fog. In black-colored wood, they resembled an old battle fleet that experienced ages traveling the Windy Sea.
They were quite tall and one of them was dozens upon dozens of meters in length, its wood was covered in plated armor. Like a ruler of the sea. Not one of them was bothered by the raging storm. It was a rather strange situation where the storm of water was raging around them, but not in the closest proximity of each ship.
On a deck of the biggest ship. Rows of figures were standing in a line. They were clothed in flickering cloaks which went all around their bodies and head. In front of them was a hooded youth in a cloak as well. Shining gear could be seen under the looser cloak. He held his head high with an arrogant face shown without a hood. Besides him were servants, and some other figures.
“Captains, Deploy everyone. It shall all start from this moment.” The youth told in a domineering voice.
A roar shook the air from the war cry of their shout. Hundreds of military and rough-looking barbarians clothed in fur jumped from their ships. Discarding their cloaks, they no longer feared any weather. Some wore armor, while most of them were clothed with furred clothes in intricate styles. The water cleared up their way as they reached the shore in a magical manner.
Lesser shop district, few streets away from 26th street. Allan was making his purchases. Buying ham, eggs, a few kilos of flour, bread, vegetables, and some fruits. Clayton gave him a few weeks' worth of money for food supplies. He also expected some meat and dried sausages, but everything was sold.
His bag was almost full by now. So he finished his shopping and went home. By the time he was back at home, 3 hours or more passed. Allan ended u storing the content of his bag in the kitchen from the successful haul.
Finishing up the lunch that Berg gave him, he was ready for today's forging. He went through the possible route he wanted to take for his experiments. There were a lot of possibilities when it come to armor making and mixing alike. Even without that book Clayton gave him, Allan would not be clueless at all when it comes to armor. The book only left him with more general knowledge and a few more advanced ones.
The armor was not so different from the forging blades in general. It was a different kind of metal product, after all. Thinness and weight were the main things that were important. It is a major thing that needs to be taken care of without lessening the protective properties of the metal. Every ore and piece of metal can be made into armor or a sword. It all depends on the techniques used when using them all. Or how brave one is to work with them.
Allan discovered within the book a brand new method he had never seen before. A forging technique involving special care. Few styles of them even involved the liquefied metallic essences that were fused into thin plates of the same type of metal. They could even be layered across each other with chains, or any kind of technical metallic thing. One could even reheat them and melt them together into manageable pieces so one could make form armors. Rough metallic plates to attach to oneself for defense.
Shoulder and torso armors were quite easy for this, as Allan assumed the way it could be worn would be easy. It was the main weight and core of the human body, where weight was not that limiting. For example, hands or legs are better off without any heavy equipment. But they still need protection. Allan read about the many solutions and ways to go around this.
The blacksmith could use their knowledge of human anatomy and needs for wearing armor in every shape or form. What is needed for any kind of armor depends on lots of factors. And everyone had their own perspective on this. For the most part, the human torso and head were the most important ones and one of the easiest to protect. Legs and armor, in a way, are the least protected, as they have the most movements of the human body.
Especially in the actual fights when soldiers swung their weapons and moved with their legs forward. Solutions for this were the plates that were depicted previously. They would get stacked on top of each other and could be secure around the wrist, or forearm. They could also face masks, and shoulders armors, which can be also a part of torso armor.
In a similar fashion, legs could be armored in the same way around the calf, and shoes, which could be reinforced with such plates as well. As for the thighs, there were also a few details Allan did not miss out on but assumed were not as important. It was all the same.
“All this talk about those plates sounds rather delicate and interesting. What if it could be done with mixing as well? It all talks about the plates stacked on top of each other, so that must be a very crucial part of this. It could be the stacking, folding, or the way it was secured, which could lead to good quality metal. Though, the overall protection could be almost like full body armor of conventional methods.” Allan thought out loud with his accumulated knowledge of armor-making.
Allan had to get his book and look at the many styles this book talked about. Figuring out the methods and teachings was one thing when it was defined Other is expertise and training with it. As he remembered his father always told him to not rely on them for everything.. When one was clever with their heads, it was not a bad thing at all, but it needed to be useful when one forge and work new things. Clayton told him many times when he read through his documents and book that making the knowledge his own was more important than making the content of the writer affect him.
At that time, Allan never knew what he meant by it. It could all well be some clever tactic to sound mysterious, but it confused Allan to the bitter end. He still thought about all of this to this day and understood it a bit every day as time moved on.
“Knowledge of this book and its content? Father... you meant it like not copying it but acknowledging it as a blacksmith and making something out of it with my own skill? Hmmm.” Allan pondered the possibility, which was not far from the truth.
Clayton had a different opinion as Allan grew up in rather a different situation than himself. Being forced to be without a mother, Allan found his own world and place in it by a side of his father. He taught him, grow him, fed him, and took care of him as his own blood. It was the son he always hoped for, yet the history that he knew changed his mindset. He wanted nothing in history to repeat itself, so he made his son go through the stuff in a mild manner.
Influenced by the knowledge of different methods could have developed something else. That was at least what he thought was a good idea. For it to be the right path, he was never right as this could end up being an unfortunate one.
Allan was never one to be stuck on one thing. Always helping and working, he accumulated experience as an intermediate blacksmith with no issue as he grew up. Though, this acknowledgment would have to go through his father, who only recently allowed him to forge full-blown swords.
Right now, he couldn't help but not be upset about the way his father taught him. Not like the stuff of wonders right below his feet was not interesting to himself. No. It was quite the opposite for him, in a way, but he had to accept it.
Resting his hands on the table for a minute, he wanted to start the simple methods of armor making from this book. One that depicted a few plates that were round and curved around the wrist support guard.
But as all things were happening, Allan was shaken up by unnatural wild sounds from outside. It shook the whole room through the tremblings.
BOOM!
“What in the world was that?” He cried out in surprise.
Hurrying outside, the rain already calmed down. He did not see anything abnormal. Only some dusty clouds beyond the horizon of the buildings. People on the street heard the tremors and confusion spread around like a plague. Not knowing what was happening as well.
Allan did not know what was going on. Eerie dark clouds were forming in the sky. The wind still howling around, so decided to get a better view of the city.
Going back to his home, Allan entered the backyard and climbed a hill. Their house was on the far side of the hill, that goes around this part of the city. Still facing a street, but, in the back were small plains and hills. Across the plain in a couple of kilometers was a mountain range that was spanning hundreds of kilometers.
Climbing up, Allan looked at the layout of a city from a few dozen of meters above. He has seen gray fog in a location of the main gates. They were very close to the location of his father. Government buildings shouldn’t have been built so close to city walls, to begin with. It was a clear vision of a poor design.
Deep penetrating sounds flew through the air. Resembling horns or trumpets, the sound could be heard everywhere in the noise of the disaster.
At this moment. Allan knew the truth.
North attacked.
The sounds of horns depicted the craziness of northern invasions. Allan shivered in fear. He did not know what to do. In a normal situation. There should be no invasions. Not in this city. There was so much land between the north and this place. It would be impossible to conceal. Unless the sheer power of invaders outstripped the defending nation. They would invade at a speed where sharing information was useless.
“I don’t get this. This shouldn’t happen. Thomas said that it would be impossible to hear war in this place anytime soon, if any.” Allan, with a twisted expression, thought.
They do not prepare the military for such situations either. Citizens would suffer and cities would be plundered. It was the hardest thing to witness. His home was about to be destroyed and he couldn’t do a thing.
“What should I do in this situation? Father is far away. Run?” He thought, considering a way to do the best choice.
“I don't know. What… to do?” Allan thought in a panic. He didn’t know anyone he could reach from other cities. Fleeing was the best option in such cases, but he don't want to consider it. No. He doesn't want to acknowledge what is happening.
“It will take a while before they reach this place. This is the furthest from the main gate. I will make a bag of the most important supplies. Food, water, and money should be taken first. Survival was most important.” Allan considers his plan. Not thinking much about the shop which would be lost.
It was one lesson his father taught him. Tasks for survival. But, no matter what, actually experiencing these events was far different.
He was not ready for what was about to happen.